I did not think that interesting, but still we talked.  They asked me stacks of questions, but did not wait for the answers much.  Mr. Wertz is the African millionaire.  He does not play cricket, and, when the men came in afterwards, he crossed over to us, and Jane introduced him to me when he had talked a little.  He is quite a sort of gentleman, and is very much at home with every one.  He laughed at everything I said.  Mrs. Smith (such bosh putting “de Yorburgh” on!) sat on a big sofa with Lord Valmond, and she opened and shut her eyes at him, and Jane Roose says she takes every one’s friend away; and Lord George Lane came up, and we talked, and he wasn’t such an idiot as at dinner, and he has nice teeth.  All the rest, except the Rooses and me, are married—­the women, I mean—­except Miss La Touche, but she is just the same, because she sits with the married lot, and they all chat together, and Violet Roose says she is a cat, but I think she looks nice; she is so pretty, and her hair is done at the right angle, because it is like Agnes does mine, and she has nice scent on; and I hope it won’t rain to-morrow, and good-night, dear Mamma.—­Your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.

P.S.—­Jane Roose says Miss La Touche will never get married; she is too smart, and all the married women’s men talk to her, and that the best tone is to look rather dowdy; but I don’t believe it, and I would rather be like Miss La Touche.  E.

Elizabeth received an immediate reply to her letter, and the next one began: 

Nazeby Hall, 28th July.

Dearest Mamma,—­I am sorry you find I use bad grammar and write incoherently, and you don’t quite approve of my style; but you see it is just because I am in a hurry.  I don’t speak it; but if I must stop to think of grammar and that, I should never get on to tell you what I am doing here, so do, dear Mamma, try and bear it bravely.  Well, everybody came down to breakfast yesterday in a hat, and every one was late—­that is, every one who came down at all, the rest had theirs upstairs.

[Sidenote:  The Cricket Match]

The cricket began, and it was really a bore.  We sat in a tent, and all the nice men were fielding (it is always like that), and the married lot sat together, and talked about their clothes, and Lady Doraine read a book.  She is pretty too, but has big ears.  Her husband is somewhere else, but she does not seem to miss him; and the Rooses told me her hair used to be black, and that they have not a penny in the world, so I think she must be clever and nice to be able to manage her clothes so well.  They are perfectly lovely, and I heard her say her maid makes them.