"Dear Sir,--In the interests of personal cleanliness, we have--not without considerable hesitation--decided to install a fourth bathroom at our historic home, 'White Ladies'. This decision will necessitate the loss or conversion of one of the dressing-rooms, a fact which fills us with the gravest misgivings, since there are only eleven in the whole mansion. At the same time, thee conventions of a prudish age make it undesirable that a second bath should be installed in one of the rooms already existing for that purpose. We think the fourth room on your right, as you leave the back stairs, going south. This is locally known as the Green Room and takes its name, not, as you may imagine, from the fact that the late Sir Henry Irving once slept there, but from the hue of the rodents, said there frequently to have been observed by the fourth Earl. Please execute the work with your customary diligence. We should like to pay on the hire system, i.e., so much a month, extending over a period of two years. The great strides, recently made in the perilous art of aviation, suggest to us that the windows should be of ground glass. Yours faithfully, etc. P.S.--If your men drop the bath on the stairs, the second footman will at once apply for a warrant for their arrest." Jill buried her face in the sofa-cushions and gave way to unrestrained merriment. Jonah laughed openly. I set my teeth and tried not to smile. For an instant the corners of Daphne's mouth twitched. Then: "Wretched ass," she said. "The truth is," said her husband, "you don't know literature when you see it. Now that letter--" "I suppose I shall have to write to the man," said I. "There you are," said Berry. "Insults at every turn. I was about to say that I regarded that letter as one of the brightest jewels in an already crowded diadem." "Give me the writing-block," I said shortly, producing my fountain-pen. I turned to Daphne. "What sort of a bath d'you want?" "Porcelain-enamel, they call it, don't they?" she replied vaguely, subjecting a box of chocolates to a searching cross-examination. Berry rose to his feet and cleared his throat. Then he sang lustily: "What of the bath? The bath was made of porcelain, Of true ware, of good ware, The ware that won't come off." A large cushion sailed into his face. As it fell to the ground, Berry seized it and held it at arm's length. "Ha," he said rapturously. "A floral tribute. They recognize my talent." "Not at all," said Jonah. "I only threw that, because the dead cats haven't come." "Exactly," said I. "We all know you ought to be understudying at the Hoxton Empire, but that's no reason why we should be subjected--" "Did you notice the remarkable compass of my voice?" said Berry, sinking into a chair. "I did," said I. "I should box it, if I were you, brother. Bottle it, if you prefer."