“It only means that he knows geography doesn’t interest me!” replied Alicia.  “And he does say more about his journey—­’Alone by myself, in a carriage very quietly I travelled.’  And again—­’To be observed not wishing, and strict orders being given to me, with no man I spoke all the way.’  There!”

“That certainly makes it more difficult to check his statements,” Sir Justin admitted.

“Ah, he evidently thought of that!” said the Countess.  “If he had said there was anyone with him, we could have asked him afterwards who it was.  What a pity!  Read on, my child—­we are vastly interested.”

Thus encouraged, the Baroness continued

" ’In Russia the crops are good, and from my window with pleasure I observe them.  Petersburg is a nice town, and I have a pleasant apartment in it!’ "

“What!” exclaimed the Countess.  “He is looking at the crops from his window in St. Petersburg!”

Sir Justin grimly pursed his lips, but his silence was more ominous than speech.  In fact, the Baron’s unfortunate effort at realism by the introduction of his window struck the first blow at his wife’s implicit trust in him.  She was evidently a little disconcerted, though she stoutly declared—­

“He is evidently living in the suburbs, mamma.”

“Will you be so kind as to read on a little farther?” interposed Sir Justin in a grave voice.

" ’The following reflections have I made.  Russia is very large and cold, where people in furs are to be seen, and sledges.  Bombs are thrown sometimes, and the marine is not good when it does drink too much.’  Now, mamma, he must have seen these things or he wouldn’t put them in his letter.”

The Baroness broke of somewhat hurriedly to make this comment, almost indeed as though she felt it to be necessary.  As for her two comforters, they looked at one another with so much sorrow that their eyes gleamed and their lips appeared to smile.

“The Baron did not write that letter in Russia,” said Sir Justin decisively.  “Furs are not worn in summer, nor do the inhabitants travel in sledges at this time of the year.”

“But—­but he doesn’t say he actually saw them,” pleaded the Baroness.

“Then that remark, just like the rest of his reflections, makes utter nonsense,” rejoined her mother.

“Is that all?” inquired Sir Justin.

“Almost all—­all that is important,” faltered the Baroness.

“Let us hear the rest,” said her mother inexorably.

“There is only a postscript, and that merely says—­ ’The flask that you filled I thank you for; it was so large that it was sufficient for——­’ I can’t read the last word.”

“Let me see it, Alicia.”

A few minutes ago Alicia would have torn the precious letter up rather than let another eye fall upon it.  That her devotion was a little disturbed was proved by her allowing her two advisers to study even a single sentence.  Keeping her hand over the rest, she showed it to them.  They bent their brows, and then simultaneously exclaimed—­