Tales and Sketches.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 16, 13 May 1871, Page 16

Tales and Sketches.

THE WINNING HAZARD. (From Chambebs’s Joubnal.) CHAPTEB VI. * Neither hare I money, nor commodity To raise a present sum.’ Wanted, a hundred pounds! A sum possibly not absolutely unattainable to Mr Lowther—-a sum, indeed, he actually thought to be his own. His allowance from his father for the quarter would cover that —allowance now overdue.. The Rev Septimus was not very regular in his payments, but he did pay in the end; always had done hitherto. Jack would go across to the lawyer who did his father’s business—Shackleblock, Lincoln's Inn, and get him to advance a hundred pounds on his father’s account. Shackleblock, was a fatherly sort of old fellow—-that is, he had white hair, a false smile, and would do anybody a kindness if he could make anything by it. ‘ Delighted my dear Mr John, delighted to be of service to you. Your father hasn't provided for your quarter’s allowance, thoughtless man ! But so immersed in his spiritual affairs he doesn’t think of the concerns of this world. And you are really in need of the money ? Dear me!’ * Could you oblige me by advancing me a hundred till my father remits P' * How unfortunate! Had you come yesterday, I should have been so glad. I've just given a cheque to complete a purchase, and I’ve actually overdrawn my account —actually overdrawn ! Dear me.’ Jack left the inner office, rather bewildered. He had felt that Shackleblock’s tone was changed to him. To him, a younger son of the Lowthers, heir-presumptive to the Bias Dinorwich estate, Shackleblock and hitherto been always most deferential, oppressive almost, in his offers of service. Now the change was painful. Lowther stood irresolute in the outer office, his hand upon the door, muttering to himself angrily. An old clerk who was writing at a tall desk, enclosed within a palisading of wood looked through the bars at him, and then came hastily out. ‘ Hush ! Mr John, hush; meet me in half an hour at the Moonbeam Shades! Most important.’ Then, at the clink of his master’s bell, the old man vanished. Jack strowled into one of the vice-chancel-lor’s courts to while away the half hour. He wasn’t very anxious about Quillet’s mysteriaus communication ; it only boded a glass of grog for the old man he thought. He composed himself very comfortably on a back bench in the court. He’d made up his mind to begin to work, to cease to lounge. Here was a half hour to spare; he would utilise it by studying the practice of the courts.

It wasn't an imposinghall of justice that vice-chancellor's court. With its round headed windows and panelled sides, it resembled more than anything else a section of a dissenting chapel of the preGotkic era. But over the vice-chancellor's seat was a glimpse of medievalism in a carved Gothic canopy like the tester of a bedstead and answering the same purpose —namely, to hang curtains from. One side of the room being occupied by the judgment seat and its enveloping curtains, two-thirds of the rest of the chamber was taken up by wooden benches ranged in front of the judicial stage, like the seats in a theatre pit. The orchestra was represented by a red baize well, the side nearest to the stage holding a seat reserved for solicitors and their clerks. This seat was sunk a good deal below the general level, so that the judicial eye might never be shocked by the sight of an attorney. There were two rows of stalls, as it were, which were represented by the inner bar, where the silk gowns and the scarlet hoods displayed themselves if they chose. The general pit was occupied by junior counsel, and by anybody else who had sufficient nerve to occupy a seat therein. When Jack entered, the court had risen for luncheon, and the room was only tenanted by a few young barristers, eating sandwiches; and a sprinkling of hard faced Yorkshiremen and railwaymen, waiting the coming on of an important case of right of foreshore, value twopence-halfpenny per annum. Presently there was a little bustle in a doorway to the right, an usher lustily called out * Silence!' though nobody was talking, and Vice-chancellor Jawkina flounced into his seat. The usher banged to the curtains with a swish, which reminded Jack of going to bed, and being tucked in, in the days of youth and fourposters. The vice, after brushing a few fragments of chicken from his well stuffed silk, and pursuing with his tongue a few stray crumbs which had lost themselves in the capacious caverns of his mouth, nodded vacuously into the pit. One of a brace of Q.C.s, who had appeared as if by magic in the inner bar, rose and resumed his argument in Hornbook v. Primer. It seemed to be a copyright case between two rival authors, Hornbook denouncing Primer’s book as a plagiarism and piracy, whilst Primer retaliated by denying any merit or originality to Hornbook. The book in question was a Spelling book.

Bat Jaok couldn’t listen to the argument, he was so uneasy about the judge. The vice was a stout portly man of heavy jowl, and double chin, which hid in their folds all vestige of a neck. His eyes were half closed, his head was thrown back, and he was rolling it about from side to side, with easy continous motion, eyeing over all the audience, and apparently not listening a whit to the monotonous drawl of Bagsby, Q.C. Jack was quite fascinated —could only watch the slowly revolving massive head, and wait for the flash of the vice-chancellor’s eyes as they turned upon him in their recurring course, as one waits at sea for the gleam of a revolving light. But all of a sudden the head stopped wagging : he spoke, interrupting Bagsby. ‘ Your Honor will observe,’ Bagsby was flowing on.

‘ Ho! I don’t observe anything of the kind.’

‘ Your Honor will perhaps refer to page a hundred and eight of our book.’ * I've got it.’ ‘Your Honor will observe that in line eight’ ‘Well, I see. C-a-t, Cat. There’s no originality in that. Bless me, I remember that as a lad ; it’s quite familiar to me. C-a-t, C-a-t. You’ve no copyright in that.’ - ‘ H-n-no,’ said Bagsby doubtfully; * perhaps not in. the matter; but in the method, in the arrangement , undoubtedly. Our principle, as your Honor is aware, is to italicise our vowels, what we term our sonant vowels, thus marking the incidence of the sound, or emphasis, as it might be termed. How, if your Honor will refer to page one hundred and eight of our hook, line eight, your Honor will observe that our Cat has got a little Hay it it.’ Mr Bagsby was sometimes, in the heat of argument, rather reckless with his aspirates.

* I see originality there,’ said Jawkins, letting out the corner of his eye at Bagsby.

‘You’ve introduced a new diet for a cat.’

There was a smothered guffaw from below, which Bagsby serenely and loftily overlooked.

* Your Honor will observe that, although defendant has cunningly avoided any direct imitation of our method, yet that he has, with all his dexterity, so far copied from our book as to bring him within the scope of your Honor’s injunction. I shall shew the animus, the fradulent w r ay in which defendant, whilst evidently pirating our work, endeavors to elude detection. How, your Honor will please to turn to page seventy-eight, linefive, of defendant’s book.’

‘ I’ve got it.’ * Your Honor will observe c-A-t. Cat, with capital Hay. Your Honor can scarcely fail to be convinced of the audacious piracy involved in this arrangement.’ Bagsby adjusted his waistcoat and bands, and looked triumphantly up at Jawkins.

‘l’ll hear the other side on that point,’ said Jawkins. Here Jack remembered he was due at the Shades.

The Moonbeam, a tavern which derived a great part of its custom from legal and journalistic circles, was not easy to find, if you were not thoroughly acquainted with the purlieus of Lincoln’s Inn. Jack, however, knew it well, and was soon within its portals, in the bottle and jug department, which affected a quasi privacy ; and here making a frugal luncheon of a glass of pale ale and a biscuit, waited the arrival of his friend.

Presently the little old clerk edged himself furtively between the swing doors, hot and out of breath. ‘ Oh, Mr John, I’ve not a minute to spare; but you ought to know’ (here Quillet glanced quickly about him, and peeped round the glass door screen which divided them from the outer bar, to assure himself there were no listeners) —‘you ought to know, and yet I oughtn’t to tell you. But I’ve such a respect for your family, Mr John. You should go down to Plas Dinorwich this very night; you don't know what may depend upon it.’ ‘ What’s the old girl about now, Quillet?’ ‘Made another will, Mr John,’ whispered Quillet hoarsely— ‘ most extraordinary will; daren’t tell you what, but most extraordinary. Go down this very night, else you’ll lose everything. Can’t say another word. —Miss’ (addressing the barmaid), * three of gin cold, please.—My respeots to you, Mr John.’ Old Quillet tossed off his draught, and again edged himself furtively between the swinging doors.

Jack returned to his chambers a sadder, but not a wiser man. He sat there gloomily, smoking, all the afternoon, thinking over his prospects, which seemed all of a sudden to have darkened so much. It was likely enough that the irregular divines, who seemed now to have such influence over his aunt, had persuaded her to will away her property under some secret trust. Possibly enough, that carneying old housekeeper and the uncovenanted parsons had joined their forces, and determined to divide the spoil. His aunt had some liking for him; possibly the sight of him might change her purpose. He might find her so weak and incapable,

that he would bo justified in taking the management of affairs, and sending these scheming parasites to the right about. And yet it seemed such a scurvy errand. He could only liken himself to a big vulture driving away the crows and buzzards swarming about the dying woman. He lay stretched out, nerveless and flaccid, in his big leathern chair, his pipe, long since burned out, still in his mouth. The voices and laughter of children had sounded to him through the open window —had died away and gone ; the wash of the steamers had ceased, the cries of their captains ; the stars were shining out, and lights were beginning to glitter in the waters. Day had turned to night, and yet Jack still lay stretched out, limp and powerless. Work was to be done;- but he could not turn his hand to it. He lay in a sort of lethargy, half asleep and half awake, wondering what it would all end in. And then there came a violent rattling and knocking at his outer door. CHAPTER VII. ‘ Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which.’ Jack Lowther, lying in his easy chair, half awake and half asleep, was aroused by a loud knocking at the outer door, He jumped up, rubbed his eyes, and went in a leisurely way to open it. A tall portly figure stood outside. ‘l’m hanged if it isn’t the governor!’ cried Jack.— * Come along, dear old dad ; you’re as welcome as the flowers in May.’ And, indeed, Jack really was delighted to see him—not only from filial affection, nor because his father’s arrival seemed to promise to put an end to the financial crisis in his affairs ; but that altogether the coming of a well loved friend into the gloom and solitude of his chambers seemed to put a new life and vigor into him. He lit the lamp, spread a white table cloth, drew a foaming tankard of ale from a barrel which stood in the pantry cupboard, brought out knives, and forks, and plates. c How, governor, I shall send the porter for some oysters and a rump steak. I’m precious hungry myself, as I forgot to dine, and I know you must be.—By Jove ! what’s the matter ?’

The lamp had now burned up, and the Eev. Septimus Lowther sat in the full light of it. Haggard, wild, his gray hairs tossed about and hanging over his forehead, his cheeks blanched, his eyes sunken and hollow looking, the lines of his face all drawn and rigid, his cassock crumpled and creased, the dust lying in the folds of it: Jack could hardly recognise in this figure his father, the dignified and decorous rector of Gfuisethorpe-cum-Yeadon. He hadn’t spoken a word all this time, but had sat with his chin on his breast, passing backwards and forwards between his hands the black silk kerchief which had protected his throat from the night air.

‘ I say, this won't do, old man,’ said Jack, going up to him, and putting his arm round him tenderly. • Whatever’s happened, you mustn’t break down.’ Jack was quite frightened when he looked into his father’s eyes : they didn’t seem to be his at all, but were more like the eyes of some hunted animal. But they softened after a while, softened and became human.

‘ You’ll stand by me, Jack ?’ he said, patting his son’s hand tremulously. ‘Of course I will,’ said Jack. ‘ What’s the matter P Have you killed somebody ?’ ‘ You see, I’m getting old,’ he went on, ‘ and I can’t meet things now as I once could; and I daresay I’ve been very foolish. I’ve lost all your money, Jack : you’ll be a beggar, and so shall I ; but on my honor, J ack, I didn’t forge thatfellow’s name—that Good’s.’

‘ I should like to see the fellow who’d say you did,’ said Jack. ‘ But if its only money that’s gone wrong, why, we’ll have something to eat, and talk it all over afterwards. See, I’ll mix you a brandy and soda, to pick up your faculties ! and then you shall go into my room, and wash and beautify yourself whilst I order the supper.’ Beally, when the rector had refreshed himself by ablution, and had partaken of supper, things did not seem so intensely black as they had previously done. Still, they were very black. Even Jack was obliged to acknowledge that. ‘ It’s a very nasty look about it, has that forgery, too,’ said Jack ; ‘ especially as, in appearance, you got the benefit of it.—You're quite sure that the proceeds of the sale were credited to your account?’ ‘That wretch Good insisted on having the books produced—and there it was in black and white.’

‘ Was it in your pass book ?’ ‘ Penstriker must have kept false pass books. The pass book found at the bank agreed with the account in the ledger; but I never saw it.’

‘ It’s a queer business,’ said Jack thoughtfully. ‘ I think you were wrong to leave Guisethorpe ; but that can’t be helped now.’ ‘Why was I wrong, Jack? I wanted your help so much. Your head’s clearer and stronger than mine.’ ‘As long as you were on your own ground, governor, you see, they’d hardly have ventured to touch you. What do

you think Sir John Burrel, or Lord Acton, or any of that lot, would have said to an application for a warrant against Septimus Lowther—eh ? Or even if a warrant had been issued, wouldn’t half the county have come forward to have bailed you out ? But if Good and his familiar—that sort of a fellow has always a jackal of a lawyer in his train—if they have set the Lufftown police to work, as is not unlikely, they’d bag you here fast enough. Mind, I don’t anticipate the slightest chance of a conviction, but we must avert the disgrace of an arrest.’

‘Jack, it would kill me,’ said his father hoarsely. ‘ Then it mustn’t come off,’ said Jack. ‘ But you see we are in this fix. If we get over that awkward business about the forged transfer, they’ll be down upon us as fraudulent trustees ; and how we’re to square that without the money, I can’t at this moment think.’

I’ll tell you what,’ said Jack, after a pause of silence, during which he had lighted his pipe and take a few earnest whiffs: ‘Aunt Lavinia must find the money ; and while she’s about it, she’ll have to shell out a hundred pounds for me; for I’ve lost that on Barbarian—worse luck. I must go down to Plas Dinorwich this very night. ‘ She won’t do it,’ Jack: she bears a most unchristian hatred to me; and I haven’t heard from her for twenty years.’ * She’ll have to do it,’ said Jack— ‘ she must , for the honor of the family. I’ll wring her neck if she don’t, and break open her bureau. And you, governor, must go back to Guisethorpe by the next train ; it leaves King’s Cross at eleven, I see ; you’ll have plenty of time. But stop ! we must first insure your getting there. It is possible that the police are already on the alert ? Did you notice anybody, in the train who seemed to be watching you ?’ ‘ Ho, Jack. By the way, the chief constable of the borough came up in the same carriage with me.’

‘Then they mean business,’said Jack. ‘ I dare say there’s a sentry over us now. This is serious. We must consider ourselves on the war path. The situation as it stands is this : I must get to Plas Dinorwich, and you must get home. I should feel rather gratified by the escort of a few policemen, railway travelling being so frightfully insecure; you naturally had rather be without them. Evidently, then, you must be I, and vice versa.’ ‘Jack, I’ll have no disguise—not for worlds!’

‘ Leave that to me; you shall not be called upon to masquerade. But there— I’m forgetting the most essential part of the business. I can’t go to Plas Dinorwich without money. Have you got any ?’ ‘ Only a few shillings, Jack I never have been in the habit of keeping money in my own hands.’

‘ How awkwark ! You’ve got a return ticket, I hope ?—That’s well; you're all right. As for me, Ihavegot justenoughfor second class fare to Chester by the Irish mail and from there I must travel on tick. The best thing you can do is to go and lie down on my bed till it’s time for you to start for the train. While you’re resting, I must think the matter out.’

Jack was only able to form a coherent plan by resolutely putting out of mind all considerations except two. The first was to get his father safely placed in the Great Northern express. The second was, to reach Plas Dinorwich himself. As to the second consideration, he found that the Irish mail to Chester was the speediest route. The Irish mail left Euston at 7.15 a.m. How could he utilise the night? First by arranging with his betting friends for his losses on Barbarian —if he could, that is, for such arrangements are difficult without a substratum of hard cash. Still it might be done. Flint was his principal creditor—Flint, the Leviathan, as they called him. Lord Colebrooke had recommended Flint to him, when he had given Jack the tip about his dark youngster Barbarian, and Flint had laid fifty ‘ponies’ to four against the horse with Jack, and had always since treated him with civility, marked with condescension, for such a minute operator. Oh,if Barbarianhadonly won ! 'Twelve hundred and fifty pounds ! It would have nearly cleared off the horrible trust fund.

Now for his governor. Jack wouldn’t waste his time in trying to find out if he were watched by the police ; he took that for granted as something to be provided against, and that rather complicated matters. It was just ten o’clock; there was no time to be lost, Jack hunted up the laundress, and brought her into his chambers.

‘ Now look here, Mrs Camp ; the governor’s lying in my bedroom asleep. He isn’t to be disturbed on any pretext, till half past ten ; at half past you’ll call him, and tell him it’s time to start; and then you’ll go and fetch a cab—a handsom, mind; and then you’ll see that he gets into it; and tell the driver, “ the Great Northern, King’s Cross.” You understand ?’

‘ Lor bless you, yes, sir.’ ‘Now go and fetch me a four wheeler, Mrs Camp,’

Mrs Camp went out for the cab, and Jack prepared for his journey t He

packed his portmanteau hurriedly; then took his haversack, put a few light things into it, and lengthening the straps, hung it round his neck, the haversack iu front like an apron. ‘ That’ll represent the governor’s corporation,’ said Jack, grinning proudly at the device. He then put on his father’s greatcoat; his father’s broad brimmed hat; muffled up his face in his father's black silk kerchief, and surveyed himself in the glass with much satisfaction. ‘ I’m hanged if I don’t think I*ll go into the church,’ he said to himself; ‘ I should be a bishop in no time, with this deportment. But hollo !’ he cried, as he caught sight of his legs. * Parsons don’t wear light tweed bags. I’d nearly made a great mess of it.’ Jack had to unpack his portmanteau, and get out his evening inexpressibles ; and the hurry and bother of this rather flurried him, so that he wasn’t quite so cool and collected as at first; and when he heard the door rattle, he felt the point of his heart knock against his ribs.

It was only Mrs Camp how’ever, who had brought the cab. ‘How, Mrs Camp,’ said Jack—he had left the final arrangement of his disguise to the last moment— ‘ here are the governor’s things on this chair. This wrapper, and here are his gloves. You'll see him made up all right, will you, Mrs Camp ?’ ‘ Bless you, yes, sir. But his 'at, sir : do he wear a white ’at, like yours ?’ ‘ Yes,’ said Jack in a smothered voice. Jack went quietly into his bedroom to complete his disguise. His father w/,s asleep, and Jack bent over his old worn face for a moment, and lightly touched his forehead with his lips. ‘ God bless you, Jack !’ lie said, half opening his eyes. Jack stole down the stairs, his eyes a little moist; but at the first landing he had to stop, to let out an explosion of laughter. ‘ Fancy the governor in a white hat! Oh, it’s killing!’ But his heart went pitapat as he descended the broad stone steps. Fibbins met him on the stairs, looked hard at him, but did not recognise him. Suppose they arrested him before he got into the cab? Why, even then, if he kept quiet, and if accident didn’t betray him, even then his father might get clear away. There was no need for funk, and yet he couldn’t help funking a little.

There stood the cab by the curb, diffusing a stuffy strawy flavor to the night air ; there stood cabby by the cab door. But heavens ! there was a second cab by the entrance, drawn up to the curb—a cab loaded with luggage, from which a young lady was descending, handed out by a polite gentleman, whom Jack recognised as a policeman in plain clothes. ‘ O uncle,’ said the young lady, running up to him, and taking hold of his hand, ‘ I’m so glad I’ve found you! I’ve had such trouble, and the people here are so uncivil; if it hadn’t been for this kind man, I should never have made you out. I’ve brought all your things, and'——

The kind man advanced a little, looking keenly at the pair. Another man appeared at the corner of the buildings, making towards them.

Jack took his cousin by the arm, pushed her back into the cab she had just quitted, jumped in after her, shouted to the cabman : ‘St Katherine’s Docks; double quick, double far !’ And as he leaned out of the window, turning the refractory handle of the door, he had the satisfaction of seeing the two men jump into the empty cab, and drive quickly after them. ‘ Capital!’said Jack, giving his cousin a hug and a kiss. ‘Splendidly done; we’ve bagged ’em both !’ ‘ Blest if it ain’t a helopement!’ said cabby, . vigorously lashing his horse. ‘Tidy little gal she seemed too, and the old chap looked like a harchdeacon. He ought to be ashamed of hisself, he ought!’ ‘Jack, you wretch, what are you doing in your father’s clothes, and where are you taking me to ?’ Jack tried to explain, but couldn’t make himself intelligible in the din of the rattling cab. The situation was perplexing. In another five minutes they would be at St. Katherine’s Docks, and what should he do then ? If the detectives found him out, they might regain the Temple before his father had got clear away. They were now rattling along Lower Thames street, which was silent and deserted. * Hi, cabby, stop !’ shouted Jack. Cabby pulled up, rather astonished and indignant. * What about the double fare ?' ‘ I’ll make that right, cabby. Is there a cab following us ?’ ‘ There was, sir, but I’ve distanced ’em. No ; blowed if he ain’t lumbering up arter us.’ ‘Well, turn up towards the Mansion house.’ ‘Blowed if I understand this here game!' said cabby, grumbling. ‘ Tell you what it is, he wants to be cotched, he does. Ah ! that’s it; she's a running away with he, and he wants to be cotched.' Presently Jack put his head out of the window again: ‘ Drive to the Hessian Club !’ Now, the Hessian Club was then the headquarters of the more respectable bet* ting fraternity in the city.

Cabby was still more disconcerted. * Well, this beats all. Blessed if he ain t the most gallus old wretch in the way of a harchdeacon I ever see !’ ‘Now, Sarah,’ shouted Jack to his cousin, ‘ you must stick to the cab, and, the moment I’m out of it, tell the man to drive to Eldon square, Brompton, and drive round and round till I come. I won’t be long after you.’ _ Jack quickly divested himself of his disguise, and, as the cab stopped, took a flying leap into the portals of the Hessian Club. The entrance was at the corner of a street, so that his exit was unperceived by the occupants of the pursuing vehicle. ‘ Well, I never,’ said cabby again. ‘Ah! I sees it all now : its a young chap as has got the bailies arter him. Eldon Square, miss, did you say, miss ? All right miss —l’m fly ! I’ll lead ’em a dance, miss.’ Cabby chuckled, and went off at a good pace, his mind considerably relieved. Fortunately Jack found that Mr Flint was spending the evening at the Hessian Club. He was shewn into a tobaccoy, dingy room on the ground floor. * Servant, sir,’ said Mr Flint, entering with a cue in his hand ; 4 what can I do for you ?’ ‘ Why look here,’ said Jack, plunging at onee in medias res : ‘ I owe you a hundred pounds, and I can’t pay you. The governor’s bank’s broken, and he can t pay you. I want you to give me a month to get the money —sooner if I can.’ j Mr Flint looked rather glum. ‘ What would you have said to me, young gent, if Barbarian had won, and I’d a wanted a month to pay you in ? What business as a gent to take odds if he can’t part when J2O losss ? ‘ Yes, that’s all right enough, Mr Flint; but accidents will happen : how the duce was I to know the Lufl’town Bank would blow up !’ * Well I ain’t a hard man to deal with, Mr Lowther, when a gent comes forward fair and honorable. I’ll take a month’s bill although I won’t say but it’ll be ill convenient, for I’ve a heavy settling on Monday, and I ain’t like a tradesman as can get rid of his bills.’ ‘ I promised my father I’d never sign a bill,’ said Jack dubiously. ‘ All right,’ said Flint: good advice, too, as far as it goes. Better advice would be, never owe nobody nothing. I don t want bills ; I’d a deal rather have cash.’ The parley ended by Jack’s signing a bill for his debt, plus ‘ expenses,’ which seemed rather heavy to his unsophisticated mind. But when he got out of the fusty room, he felt a wonderful lightness and buoyancy of spirits. He had shunted that business, which had seemed so overwhelming ; he had made a good start with his plans. * What’s the use,’ said Jack to himself, as he rattled gaily along in a hansom to wards the West— ‘ what is the use of sacrificing a chance for the sake of some musty old proverb, maxim, or other bit of crystallised experience! One can’t steer by the compass altogether, but must feel one's way by the lead in shallow waters’ Jack got to Eldon square as soon as the fore wheeled growler. ‘ Drive quietly round the square,’ he called to his coachman. It was a little triumphal procession this:

A hansom cab, Mr J olin Lowther ; A square cab, Miss Sarah Lowther; Another square cab, a kind man and his friend. Jack was leading his captives under the balcony of bis princess, but she was not there to see. He looked at bis watch ; it was half past eleven o’clock. The governor was now spinning along the iron way ; safe enough now ; soon to be among his own tribe. What should he do with his cousin ? He gave the signal to stop, and the hansom drew up by the curb. His cousin’s chariot also stopped. The cab containing the kind man and bis companion came to a stand. They were all opposite No. 32, Eldon Square.

* Sarah,’ said Jack opening the door of her cab, * I know you are awfully puzzled at this queer work ; but you have behaved like a brick, I must say. You see you could not very well stop at my chambers, the governor not being there, and you could not drive about in a cab, so I have brought you to the house of some dear friends of mine’ —he did not say of how long standing— * who are also friends of Aunt Lavinia.’ * But I don’t care about making the acquaintance of your friends, Jack. I will go to the Great Northern Hotel—l do not mind a bit.’ * I particularly want you to make the acquaintance of Miss Waldron,’ said Jack, ‘ and I particularly don't want you to go to the Great Northern Station.’ Sarah shrugged her shoulders, but consented. There was perhaps a little bit of tenderness still in her heart for her cousin, and women are usually dog-in-the-man-gerish, and, even if they won’t have a man themselves, grudge him to another. * Miss Waldron and the doctor were both at home,’ said the grinning buttons; and they were presently shown into the drawing room, where sat "Valeria and her father, quietly reading. * You need hardly introduce your cousin 3$ Miss IrfOWther—the face is sufficient

w arrant of the name. Whatever accident bas caused this visit, is a welcome one.— My house and all in it are at your disposal, Miss Lowther.—Valeria, I intrust Miss Lowther to your most careful charge —Lowther, a lucky thing you came ,• I wanted to see you so much ; come and have a cigar; I want to talk to you about your aunt’s coffin.’

(To be continued,')