He and my mother have gone to live in the country, near the mansion of the only marquis with whom my father was actually and personally acquainted in his professional days.

The marquis asks him to dinner once a year, and leaves a card for my mother before he returns to town for the season.

A portrait of Lady Malkinshaw hangs in the dining-room.

In this way, my parents are ending their days contentedly.

I can honestly say that I am glad to hear it.
Doctor Dulcifer, when I last heard of him, was editing a newspaper in America.