She chiefly communicates with us by means of telegrams, and her telegrams are rather inscrutable.

They say women don't know how to write them, but my mother has thoroughly mastered the art of condensation.
'Tired America, hot weather awful, return England with niece, first steamer decent cabin.' That's the sort of message we get from her--that was the last that came.

But there had been another before, which I think contained the first mention of the niece.

'Changed hotel, very bad, impudent clerk, address here.

Taken sister's girl, died last year, go to Europe, two sisters, quite independent.' Over that my father and I have scarcely stopped puzzling; it seems to admit of so many interpretations." "There's one thing very clear in it," said the old man; "she has given the hotel-clerk a dressing." "I'm not sure even of that, since he has driven her from the field.