A telegram to Petherick: they needed to do nothing else.

When the lady arrived a furnished flat, a maid and a nurse and a cook and toys awaited her.

When her husband arrived, a pair of boots awaited him from the same last that his last pair had been made on, in London, five years before.

At some thoughtful moment $1,000 was added to Petherick's salary by the Navy Department; and a few years ago a handsome present was made to Petherick by the United States Naval Officers all over the world.
But Petherick, with all his virtues, is merely an Englishman, and it is not usual for an Englishman to hold a $3,000 office under appointment from the United States Government.

The office of despatch agent, therefore, has been nominally held by an American citizen in London.
This American citizen for a good many years has been Mr.Crane, a barrister, who simply turns over the salary to Petherick; and all the world, except the Secretary of State, knows that Petherick is Petherick and there is none other but him.
Now comes the story: Mr.Bryan, looking around the world for offices for his henchmen, finds that one Crane has been despatch agent in London for many years, and he writes me a personal and confidential letter, asking if this be not a good office for some Democrat! I tell the story to the Naval Attache! He becomes riotous.