An Unexpected Visit--Morning Drives--Gabrielle's Ponies--A Repulsive Object--A Visitor--The King of Sweden's Soup--Advantages of a Royal Kitchen--Startling Experience--Ida's Letters--Strange Contents--A Lucky Stone--Bequest for a Melodeon--Offers of Marriage--Arrival of a Suitor--Reasons why he should marry Ida Greeley--He proves a Lunatic--He is taken before a Magistrate--He is lodged in the County Jail. _June 5_. As unexpected visit yesterday from Mr. O'Dwyer, a member of _The Tribune_ staff, and for several years dear uncle's private secretary. Mamma had invited Mr. O'Dwyer to come out and pass a quiet day with us, and had appointed Wednesday for the visit. Desirous of a little excitement, and already somewhat weary of our nun-like simplicity of toilette, we decided to do honor to our guest by dressing our hair quite elaborately, and attiring ourselves, despite the heat, in our best bombazines with their weight of crape. We were assembled in the dining-room after our early dinner, discussing, in our plain print wrappers and Marguerite braids, our plans for the morrow, when Minna announced: "A visit, Madame; a gentleman." "Probably a neighbor upon business," said mamma to us; "show him in here, Minna." The door opened, and enter the guest for whom, in imagination, we were making such extensive preparations. A very expressive glance was telegraphed around our circle. I was engaged in the domestic occupation of hemming one of papa's handkerchiefs, and although Hawthorne draws so pretty a picture of the beautiful Miriam while engaged in "the feminine task of mending a pair of gloves," with all deference to the poet's taste, I consider the beguiling little scraps of canvas or kid which I produce when company is present, much more attractive than plain sewing. In a moment the surprise was explained. Mr. O'Dwyer had received orders to represent _The Tribune_ somewhere, the following day, just in time to catch the Pleasantville express, and run out to tell us that he could not come at the time appointed. "The circumstances were trying," we said to each other, after his departure; but imagine, girls, how much worse they would have been, had the visitor been a lady! As long as a wrapper is black, I very much doubt if a gentleman would know it from an afternoon dress. _June 8_. The usual routine of our morning occupations has been somewhat broken of late, for these June days are too perfect to be spent within doors, even with such grand companions as Plato or Beethoven. We plan charming hours to be spent in the pine grove, where Marguerite will read to us a chapter or two of Kohlrausch's "Germany," and Ida will give us a few pages of Taine's brilliant "Angleterre;" but as we are starting with camp chairs, books, and work, Bernard approaches: "Any orders, Miss?"