ung gentlemen, for you've
come amongst us so many years now and always been so free and pleasant,
and I hope I may have the pleasure of going out with you often in the
future, though Master Ger did say he'd heard that you were thinking of
India. If that is so, I hope you'll make a point of coming down for a
few days early in June, when the fly will be at its best. If this mild
weather continues we ought to get some very sizeable fish.

It's funny to me to think how I've been here twenty-three years come
Michaelmas, and when the present Squire came I never thought I should
stop, he not being fond of sport. If I may say so, you, sir, had a
good deal to do with me stopping on that first summer, me being very
fond of children, and then when they came at the Manor House and the
mistress always sent them down to be shown to us as soon as ever they
went out, I began to feel I'd taken root here, and so I suppose I have.

Master Ger is becoming a first-rate performer on the bugle, he played
for us yesterday, quite wonderful it was. My wife begs to join with me
in respectful congratulations.--Your obedient servant,

WILLIAM WILLETS.

He wrote to Willets at once, promising to come down at the end of May
for a week-end, even if he couldn't get more. He was frightfully busy,
for he was one of the instructors at Chatham, and had many other irons
in the fire as well. He waited till he knew Mary was in Woolwich and
then he wrote to her:--

It was nice of you to send me such pretty grats, and I am truly
appreciative. I also had the jolliest letter from old Willets. He
promises good sport very shortly, and I shall make a point of turning
up at Redmarley when the fly is on the water, if only for a couple of
nights, for when Willets foretells "sizeable fish" you know you're in
for a first-class thing. It will be queer to be at the Manor House and
you away. Only once has that happened to me, the year you were at
school, and now "all that's shuv be'ind you" and you're out and dancing
about. I shall certainly have urgent private affairs in Woolwich
during the next month. Talk of respect! When was I ever anything but
grovelling? And once I have gazed upon your portrait in train and
feathers I shall be reduced to such a state of timidity you won't know
me.

The other day I met your friend Clara Bax selling _Votes for Women_ at
the Panton Street corner of Leicester Square, and she hadn't at all a
Hurrah face on. I greet