It is so kind of you to think of me about Jack.  I am never very fond of Mistletoe.  Don’t you be mischievous now and tell the Duchess I said so.  But with Jack in the neighbourhood I can stand even her Grace.  I think I shall be there about the middle of January but it must depend on all those people mamma is going to.  I shall have to make a great fight, for mamma thinks that ten days in the year at Mistletoe is all that duty requires.  But I always stick up for my uncle, and mean in this instance to have a little of my own way.  What are parental commands in opposition to Jack and all his glories?  Besides mamma does not mean to go herself.

I shall leave it to you to say whether the ball was `altogether wretched.’  Of course there must have been infinite vexation to you, and to us who knew of it all there was a feeling of deep sorrow.  But perhaps we were able, some of us, to make it a little lighter for you.  At any rate I shall never forget Rufford, whether the memory be more pleasant or more painful.  There are moments which one never can forget!

Don’t go and gamble away your money among a lot of men.  Though I dare say you have got so much that it doesn’t signify whether you lose some of it or not.  I do think it is such a shame that a man like you should have such a quantity, and that a poor girl such as I am shouldn’t have enough to pay for her hats and gloves.  Why shouldn’t I send a string of horses about just when I please?  I believe I could make as good a use of them as you do, and then I could lend you Jack.  I would be so good-natured.  You should have Jack every day you wanted him.

You must write and tell me what day you will be at Mistletoe.  It is you that have tempted me and I don’t mean to be there without you,—­or I suppose I ought to say, without the horse.  But of course you will have understood that.  No young lady ever is supposed to desire the presence of any young man.  It would be very improper of course.  But a young man’s Jack is quite another thing.

So far her pen had flown with her, but then there came the necessity for a conclusion which must be worded in some peculiar way, as his had been so peculiar.  How far might she dare to be affectionate without putting him on his guard?  Or in what way might she be saucy so as best to please him?  She tried two or three, and at last she ended her letter as follows.

I have not had much experience in signing myself to young gentlemen and am therefore quite in as great a difficulty as you were; but, though I can’t swear that I am everything that you like best, I will protest that I am pretty nearly what you ought to like,—­as far as young ladies go.

In the meantime I certainly am,
Yours truly,
A. T.

P.S.  Mind you write—­about Jack; and address to Lady Smijth—­ Greenacres Manor—­Hastings.

There was a great deal in this letter which was not true.  But then such ladies as Miss Trefoil can never afford to tell the truth.