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“MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. "Not materially, Mr. " "Are they good?" "He can write; but he hasn't found anything real to write about. ” She replied. "One motive alone shall induce me to go on with you," said Jack. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. On seeing it, he'll deliver you a box, which it will unlock, and in which you'll find a matter of fifty guineas and a few trinkets. “But, of course, she may have come from one of the other flats. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. And if you treat me in this way, you will have my death to answer for, as well as the deaths of my husband and child. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr.
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