Whose could be this graceful, delicate hand?
A woman's doubtless; yet he had no female correspondent, save those who wrote from St.Neots.The postmark was London.

He opened, "Dear Mr.Warburton"-- a glance over the leaf showed him--"Sincerely yours, Rosamund Elvan." H'm! "Dear Mr.Warburton,--I am settled in my lodgings here, and getting seriously to work.

It has occurred to me that you might be able to suggest some quaint corner of old London, unknown to me, which would make a good subject for a water-colour.

London has been, I am sure, far too much neglected by artists; if I could mark out a claim here, as the colonists say, I should be lucky.

For the present, I am just sketching (to get my hand in) about Chelsea.