They went for a fortnight to Boulogne. I wished them joy from the bottom of my heart, and flung a charming little white satin slipper of Mrs. Gibson’s; it alighted on the carriage—our carriage, by-the-way; we had just started one, and now lived at Lancaster Gate.
It was a sharp pang—almost unbearable, but, also, almost the last. The last was when she came back and I saw how radiant she looked. And as for Barty, he was like
“the herald Mercury,
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill!”
and he had shaved off his beard and mustache to please his wife.
“From George du Maurier, Esqre., A.R.W.S., Hampstead Heath,
to the Right Honble. Sir Robert Maurice, Bart., M.P.:
“My Dear Maurice,—In answer to your kind letter, I shall be proud and happy to illustrate your biography of Barty Josselin; but
