This must be a small matter to a wealthy
and generous man like you. To me it is a matter of life and death.
Anxiously awaiting your early and favourable reply, and begging you to
keep this application a secret,
I remain, Sir, Yours, faithfully, HENRY PIDGIN.
That sounded heart-breaking, but I happened to know that Mr. PIDGIN's
"malarial fever" was nothing but _delirium tremens_, brought on by
a prolonged course of drunkenness. Hence his shaky handwriting, &c.
BLISSOP had warned me against him. Wrote back that, in view of the
Corrupt Practices Act, it was impossible for me to relieve individual
cases.
Called on the PENFOLDS this afternoon. They are up from Billsbury
for their stay in London, and have got a house in Eaton Square. To
my surprise found Mrs. BELLAMY and MARY there. That was awkward,
especially as MARY looked at me, as I thought, very meaningly, and
asked me if I didn't think SOPHY PENFOLD sweetly pretty. I muttered
something about preferring a darker type of beauty (MARY's hair is as
black as my hat), to which MARY replied that perhaps, after all, that
kind of pink and white beauty with hair like tow _was_ rather insipid.
The BELLAMYS it seems met the PENFOLDS at a dinner last week, and
the girls struck up a friendship, this call being the result. Young
PENFOLD, whom I had never seen before, was there and was infernally
attentive to MARY. He's in the 24th Lancers, and looks like a barber's
block.
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