Amongst the letters which the hall-porter handed to him was one from Stella.

He tore it open and read it standing there.
"MY DEAR NORRIS," it began,-- "Events have been marching a little too rapidly for me lately, and I am going away.

I cannot stand New York any longer.

Fifth Avenue gives me the horrors, and I am afraid to open an American paper.

Besides, there are other things, to which I need not allude, which make me think that it would perhaps be better for me to take a journey.