MISS MAT FIELD WONDERS

wondering of you would care to spend the evening with
me, have dinner and then go somewhere. It would be
a great treat for me. I'm sorry the notice is so short, but
couldn't help that. Will you let me know at once—c/o
Holborn Palace Hotel—and tell me what time to call for
you if you are free.

Yours sincerely,

Norman Birtley.

So Norman Birtley hadn't forgotten her existence.
She sent a dashing note to him at his rather ghastly
Holborn Palace Hotel, telling him she was free and
could be called for at the Burpenfield at seven o'clock.
And after slipping out to post it, she felt slightly better.

Ansdell looked in, having disposed of her father, not
without first making him promise her a new outfit.
"And we sail in a fortnight, my dear," she crowed. "And
to-morrow I give those beastly people the sack, after
which I hand out the same to Tatters, in person, too,
Yes, I am. That will probably close the dear old Burp
to me for ever, and not a bad thing too. Except I shall
be very sorry to leave you, Mattie. I will really. After
all, we've-had some great conferences in these queer little
dens, haven't we? I'll have to tell Father he must have
two secretaries, and then we'll both go out, slip away
and marry big brown men from the West and the great
open spaces, What do you say?"

"I'd love it," said Miss Matfield, forcing a smile. "I'm
terribly sorry you're going. They'll put some awful
creature into your room, either one of the old hot water
brigade or some devastatingly bright young person from
the lounge set. I suppose it's nearly time I joined the
hot water school, the kettle fillers—"