Hail, Marchioness of Valmond, all hail! Your letter gave me the greatest possible pleasure. You have made the match I desired for you, and I do not know who deserves the greatest credit for it--you who hooked this fine fish, Octavia who helped you to land it, or I who taught you how to fish, and then sent you to the pool where my lord trout disported himself. But apart from chaffing, Elizabeth, I am sincerely glad for you, because Valmond really seems to love you, and as men go, he will make you a good husband. As soon as your visit to Octavia is over, you must come straight to me; we will go to Paris for the trousseau and to Rome for the winter; a little delay and absence will do Valmond good, and then, darling, we will come to England and start the season with your _noces_, which shall be done as befits a Marquis and Marchioness of Valmond. He wrote me to-day, as did Octavia; I am replying by this same post to both. Assure them both of my unfaltering affection. I had intended going back to Monk's Folly, but, since the news in your letter, I have decided to stop in town till you come in a day or two. Blanche sends her congratulations; she has gone home, as Daisy wanted a rest. Mrs. Blaine is on the high road to recovery, and they will most likely go to Rome with us. {_The Bazaar_} Blanche left last night, after going with me to the Bazaar for Distressed Gentlewomen. It was held at Mauve House, lent by the Duke of Mauve, and was under the patronage of the Duke and Duchess, but organised by Mr. Albert D. Beake, editor and proprietor of "White Lies," said to be the most successful of all the Society papers. The Bazaar was opened by Royalty, and Mr. Beake must have cleared a large sum for the Distressed Gentlewomen as well as advertised his paper and juggled himself and wife into Society for once at any rate. His wife is the woman I wrote you about the other day, who came to the Carlton to lunch, and talked so much about Society. I said at the time she was an editor's wife. Mr. Beake was everywhere, but his wife had a stall with the Duchess of Mauve, who looked awfully bored. {_Lady Hildegarde_}