dear; at present you have one kind, in another year you will have another kind -it is so long ago with me that I forget the exact ages, but they keep marching on as you march-until at my years none are left to you but a scattered remnant, here and there a susceptible widower, or a man who has lost his first love, or a foreign diplomatist who wants an English wife to head his table, or

"Oh, Lady Matilda, how can you say so? You know very well

“Very well all that you can say, child,” with unaffected disdain. "Oh yes, I know all about it; trust me. But, Juliet, what I meant to say was this. You envy me Mr. Whewell, my dear, delightful Mr. Whewell, and herewith I make a present of him to you. Now this is how the deed of gift shall be drawn out. He sings; well, I love music, but I fear I do not greatly care for musical people, more especially when the fit is on. Fact is, I hate 'em. So Mr. Whewell shall not have the felicity of being accompanied by me in Darby and Joan,' or In the gloamin', oh, my da-arlin'," mimicking, "those two abominations which are no doubt the flower of his répertoire; he shall not be permitted to shine in them, but he shall hum his bass to Juliet's sweetest treble, while I, even I — hearken, O Lotta, hearken, O Marion, I will immolate myself on the altar of — "

The door opened, and she was prevented saying Challoner's name by the entrance of Challoner himself.

CHAPTER IX.

ROBERT HAS CAUSE FOR COMPLAINT. "You always do too little, or too much." COWPER.

--

THERE was was nothing in the faces of any of the ladies to indicate that they had been interrupted in their conversation. Lady Matilda, even while turning round courteously to include the new-comers in the conversation, continued to address the youngest Miss Appleby-altering her topic but not her tone, while the elder sister and Mrs. Hanwell resumed the thread of a confidence that had been suspended for a moment by the last remark. "You see,” said Lotta earnestly, "I could have overlooked it if it had been the first time, and if I could have put any faith, any real faith, in the woman's professions. But if once a servant has been untrustworthy, you don't know how to believe her again."

"Yes, indeed," replied her companion,

endeavoring to look as attentive as before; "yes, indeed. I know that is what mamma always says, and —"

"I could never have let her out of the house with any comfort, could I? And if there had been a message to be taken

and we so often have to have messages - at least errands to be run-down to the village, you know, to the post, or for things that cook wants-cooks always want things when there is no one handy to go for them—"

(I hear Lotta and her cooks," murmured Lady Matilda, aside to Teddy.)

"If we had wanted to send anywhere, it would always have been Who was to go?'" proceeded the unconscious narrator. "Now Sarah has always seemed willing, and so I always let her; and it was only the other day-though I must own I had my suspicions before - but it was only the day before yesterday, something was wanted for yesterday's dinner, something that cook had to make ready the day before, for we had these gentlemen coming " (lower), "and so, of course, cook was anxious to do her best, and she asked if Sarah might run up the road for her."

"Don't you find the fire rather hot, dear?"

"No, thank you, never mind." Lotta's tongue was not to be stopped in that way. "Well, Marion, I do assure you that the girl took an hour and a half, and she had not half a mile to go! She did indeed; for I looked at the clock, and it was four o'clock when she went, and half past five when she came in. It was dark, quite dark outside, but I heard her come in and go up the back staircase, so I called out, 'Is that Sarah?' and it was." "Oh, that was too bad. But —" "She had only to run up the road to Farmer Dunstable's for some cream — at least, to let them know that extra cream would be wanted next day; she had not even to wait for it, and she could not pretend that she had when I taxed her. The cream was wanted for the white soup, you know; cook does make such excellent white soup, and she is so economical over it; she never thinks of veal and chicken; she makes a bit of the neck of mutton do, with a rabbit. Of course I let her get what cream she likes; for, after all, a shil ling's worth of cream goes a long way; and Mrs. Dunstable's cream is always good and thick. So when she asked if some one might be sent to the farm, I said, 'Send Sarah.' I said it at once, never thinking, never for a moment imag.

ining, you know, that she was not to be trusted. Robert would have sent the groom, but he had hurt his foot; and as Sarah has nothing much to do about four o'clock she never has I suggested her myself. She brought in my cup of tea first- Robert does not take tea and I remember that I thought it rather strange Sarah's bringing it in so early, for I don't usually have it till five, or nearly five, and she excused herself by saying that she thought I looked tired, and would be glad of my tea. It was that I might not find out how long she stayed, you know."

"Dear!" said Miss Appleby, properly shocked. Resistance was of no avail; the grievance, she saw, must be heard

out.

"I could hardly believe it, Marion, and of course I have felt it dreadfully. Nurse - I mean Mrs. Burrble, not Hannah nurse did give me a sort of hint a week ago, at least she says now that she meant it for a hint, by the way, Mrs. Burrble can stay on with us another week, Marion is not that nice? I was so anxious that Hannah should have her in the house for a little after Hannah had begun to take baby in hand; and Robert has been so good, he says under the circumstances I am quite right, and he does not mind the expense at all. Of course she is expensive, but she is such a nice woman, and I can talk to her about all sorts of things. I told her about Sarah at once, and then she reminded me that she had given me that hint. She had said, 'Are you keeping on Sarah, ma'am? ' And she tells me now that she had meant me to notice it, and to ask why she inquired. But it never occurred to me. Now, would it to you?"

"Oh, but it is not off my mind at all. You see I did not take in what Mrs. Burrble meant, when she asked, 'Are you keeping on Sarah?' What was I to say? Of course I was keeping on Sarah. So now Sarah says

"Young ladies, young ladies, where are your manners?" Never had human voice sounded more musical in the ears of the unfortunate Marion Appleby than Lady Matilda's did now. "Fie, both of you! usurping one another in this way," con

tinued the hostess, with the most delightful reproach. "Fie! get up; split into two, instantly. I really wondered how long this was going on," she proceeded, looking from one to the other as they stood up at her command, "and at last I saw something must be done. Look over there."

Over there accordingly the culprits looked, and indeed what they beheld justified Matilda's complaint. Lord Overton, Mr. Challoner, Robert, and Teddy were all silently drinking coffee, having apparently exhausted every single thing they had to say to each other before they left the dining-room. Whewell was more lucky, but still only relatively lucky: he had the resource of the china ornaments on the mantelpiece and Juliet Appleby; but even he was less lively than before, while there was no doubt that the other quartet felt themselves, if not aggrieved, at least unwanted, unneeded, superfluous.

As soon, however, as it was seen that the ladies were no longer too deeply engaged for intrusion, they were approached on all sides, the two Overtons, elder and younger, with one accord addressing the ever-pliant, accommodating Marion Appleby, who was always ready to listen, and never had much to say; while Mr. Challoner, apparently impelled by a sense of duty, made an opening observation to Mrs. Hanwell, and Matilda herself was left to her son in-law.

Well, she could not help it; she had meant, had certainly meant, to take that opportunity for making amends to Challoner, and she would undoubtedly have preferred him, even him, to Robert; but he had begun with Lotta, and so there was an end of it. No one could say it was her fault. Still it was the hour for sacrifice, so if balked in one direction she would strike out in another; she would make the best of the bad bargain the fates had given her for the nonce; and accord. ingly,

"I am having new covers in my boudoir, Robert."

"Indeed? Are the old ones worn out, then?"

"Worn to rags. But I dare say I should have had them still, if Teddy had not let fall a bottle of ink, and it went all over the sofa cushions and all, last week. Perhaps on the whole it was the best thing he could have done."

"You are a philosopher, Lady Matilda." The effects of a good dinner and a pleas ant after-dinner were not without their effect on Mr. Hanwell; he found Lady

and there was no appearance of an end to

"Let him sing alone," said Robert in a low voice. "He can; and he can play for himself too." Whewell had gone to open the instrument. "I think," continued Robert, with what was for him a great effort of moderation, —“I think, perhaps, Lady Matilda, you have not noticed that Challonerah-I fancy he would like if you would speak to him a little. And I think you would be pleased with him, I really do. Quite so, I mean if you have the opportunity," in reply to a hesitating glance towards the piano. "I un derstand: it will do by-and-by-quite well, by-and-by."

Well, she would, by-and-by. Robert had a show of reason on his side; and however dull and uninteresting his friend might be, it was true that, for her own sake, she ought not to be rude to any one. And then Juliet had said that Challoner had been looking at her. Certainly she would do something, if it were ever so little, for him—by-and-by.

But, alas! by-and-by was long in coming. One song succeeded another, and Whewell found each more charming than the last. He did not sing with her, having found out, with his native quickness of perception, that she would prefer going her own way unmolested, and that the few notes he threw in once or twice had only resulted in confusion; he had put her out, and a thousand apologies could not put her in again. He promised in future to abstain; but to sing with him for an auditor, for an enthusiastic, demonstrative auditor, was pleasant enough so pleasant, indeed, that time drew on,

It was not that Challoner was forgotten, it was that she could not be troubled with him. And, after all, why should she be? She thought—as soon as the effect of Robert's leniency had worn off a little -she thought Mr. Challoner did well enough without notice. It appeared to be all one to him where he was, or what he was doing; and looking at him, as he and Overton sat together at the far end of the room, with evidently quite a fellowfeeling of comfort and repose in obscurity, she vowed it would be a pity, altogether a pity, to unsettle the minds of either.

Now Whewell was different: Whewell could not be happy unless he were in the front of everything: whatever was the order of the day, he must have a part in it, and could perform that part well; and such being the case, it was a pleasure to do anything for him. But if a man has no discernment, sees no difference, and would as soon be at the bottom as at the top-why, leave him at the bottom.

At length, however, Whewell had implored, and praised, and thanked, and flattered, until it seemed as though nothing else were left to be said or looked. It grew late. "I believe I ought to see

after people," said Matilda, rising. "Juliet, take my place; and you, who accom pany so much better than I do, play this for Mr. Whewell."

Thus she was free, and now surely was Challoner's time come! But no. Unfortunately no one but Matilda herself knew what Matilda meant to do, and two at least of the party were ill enough pleased with what she had already done. Neither of these was Lord Overton - he was happy enough: he thought the evening had gone off well-better than he had expected; and that as every one was doing as he or she liked best, all was right. Whewell he considered was a noisy fellow, but noisy fellows were of use sometimes, and it was lively to hear the piano going. For himself, he liked Challoner better, infinitely better; but Challoner could not help things off as Whewell did; and anyway the dull dinner-party would soon be over, and he hoped Matilda would not soon think it necessary to give another. Here was Matilda coming; and had Matilda come, had she got his length and accosted him, she would have been received with his usual smile. But an angry voice stopped her midway.

"You have come at last," said Teddy,