see everybody knows that I am Mrs. Ravener; all my friends seem to take an ill-natured delight in emphatically using my married name. I may be as frivolous as I choose, as recklessly flippant as I possibly can, but my wedding ring must remain. It does not upbraid me for my conduct. Not a bit of it. I have a perfect right to do everything in my power to forget it. I would fling my ring to the bottom of the Thames, and still maintain my unquestioned right to do so, but,—ah! there is always one of those detestable little conjunctions in the way.
I hope I am making you wonder what all this means, dear reader, because I intend tearing myself away from mamma for a little and devoting some time to you. You say you would not like to inconvenience mamma? Oh, you need not hesitate. I shall tell her that I need a little rest, and shall interpret her surprised "What nonsense, Elsie!" into a motherly injunction to take it. She is still a little afraid of me, you see. She remembers that, like Mr. Bunthorne, I am very terrible when I am thwarted. Though nothing in my behavior nowadays indicates that I have the
