I enjoyed the drive to Richmond, where I gave her tea at the Star and Garter and was relieved to see her drink normally from the cup, instead of lapping from the saucer like a kitten. She was much more intelligent than during our first drive on Tuesday. The streets have grown more familiar, and the traffic does not make her head ache. She asks me the ingenuous questions of a child of ten. The tall guardsmen we passed particularly aroused her enthusiasm. She had never seen anything so beautiful. I asked her if she would like me to buy one and give it her to play with. “Oh, would you, Seer Marcous?” she exclaimed, seizing my hand rapturously. I verily believe she thought I was in earnest, for when I turned aside my jest, she pouted in disappointment and declared that it was wrong to tell lies. “I am glad you have some elementary notions of ethics,” said I. It was during our drive that it occurred to me to ask her where she had procured the paint and earrings. She explained, cheerfully, that Antoinette had supplied the funds. I must talk seriously to Antoinette. Her attitude towards Carlotta savours too much of idolatry. Demoralisation will soon set in, and the utter ruin of Carlotta and my digestion will be the result. I must also make Carlotta a small allowance. During tea she said to me, suddenly: “Seer Marcous is not married?” I said, no. She asked, why not? The devil seems to be driving all womankind to ask me that question. “Because wives are an unmitigated nuisance,” said I. A curious smile came over Carlotta’s face. It was as knowing as Dame Quickly’s. “Then-” “Have one of these cakes,” said I, hurriedly. “There is chocolate outside and the inside is chock-full of custard.” She bit, smiled in a different and beatific way, and forgot my matrimonial affairs. I was relieved. With her oriental training there is no telling what Carlotta might have said. May 31st.