" "What?" he barked. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. The faithful fellow will never leave me. I get the worst headaches.
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