With the dawn of that eventful day, however, I was relieved of this necessity.

I was lying in bed about half-past nine (for I never add to the woes of life by early rising) when my servant brought in three letters.
"Sent on from the bank, sir," he said, "with Mr.Jones' compliments, and are you going there this morning ?" "My compliments to Mr.Jones, and he may expect me in five minutes," I replied.
The letters were all marked "Immediate"; one from the signorina, one from the colonel, one from the barracks.

I opened the last first and read as follows: "The officers of the Aureataland Army have the honor to remind Mr.
John Martin that they hope to have the pleasure of his company at supper this evening at ten o'clock precisely.

In the unavoidable absence of his Excellency, the President, owing to the pressing cares of state, and of the Hon.

Colonel McGregor from indisposition, the toast of the Army of Aureataland will be proposed by Major Alphonse DeChair.
"P.S .-- Cher Martin, speak long this night.