This day began with a surprise.

I found a letter on my breakfast-table addressed to Edward Ducie, Esquire; and at first I was startled beyond measure.

'Conscience doth make cowards of us all!' When I had opened it, it proved to be only a note from the lawyer, enclosing a card for the Assembly Ball on Thursday evening.

Shortly after, as I was composing my mind with a segar at one of the windows of the sitting-room, and Rowley, having finished the light share of work that fell to him, sat not far off tootling with great spirit and a marked preference for the upper octave, Ronald was suddenly shown in.

I got him a segar, drew in a chair to the side of the fire, and installed him there--I was going to say, at his ease, but no expression could be farther from the truth.