_P.S._—I open this to tell you that such a gorgeous fish-knife, with our
monograms upon it, has just arrived from Mrs. Preston, my father’s old
friend. I went to the Goldsmith’s Company in Regent Street yesterday
afternoon, and I bought—what do you think? It looks so beautiful upon
its snow-white cotton wadding. I like them very broad and rather flat.
I do hope you will think it all right. It fills me with the strangest
feelings when I look at it. Come what may, foul weather or fair, sorrow
or joy, that little strip of gold will still be with us—we shall see it
until we can see no more.
_P.P.S._—Saturday! Saturday!! Saturday!!!