We are home again, and all is bustle and confusion—Aunt Gwendolin is going to be married. She pays no attention to me now at all; and you know, dear diary, how that grieves me. Dressmakers, milliners, caterers, florists, decorators, throng the house. Count de Pensier is staying in a hotel downtown. He calls every forenoon, and every afternoon; and declares, with his hand on his heart, that he cannot return to his own count............