She therefore orders her dutiful god-daughter to write you these,
hoping that thereby you may be induced to yield yourself a willing
slave to her caprices and come down here for a few days. Though the
very dearest and best of women, my god-mother, as you may remember,
possesses a tongue, therefore--be warned, sir! My Tyrant at this
precise moment sits in the 'round house,' whither he has retreated
to solace his ruffled feelings with tobacco. So, I repeat, sir, be
warned! And yet, though indeed, 't is strange, and passing strange,
she speaks of you often, and seems to hold you in her kind regard.
But, for all that, do not be misled, sir; for the Duchess is always
the Duchess,--even to poor me. A while ago, she insisted on playing a
game of chess; as I write the pieces lie scattered on the floor.
_I_ shan't pick them up,--why should I? So you see her Grace is
quite herself to-day. Nevertheless, should you determine to run the
risk, you will, I think, find a welcome awaiting you from,
Yours, dear sir,
CLEONE MEREDITH.
P.S.--The Bo'sun assures me the moon will last another week.
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