Harold distinctly" she seemed to figure it all out "and even the poor children, I dare say, a little. Oh but every one" she warmed to the vision "it's perfect. Jane immensely, par example. Almost all the others who come to the house. Cashmore, Carrie, Tishy, Fanny bless their hearts all! each in their degree."

Brookenham took it with a wonderful bright emotion. "My dear friend, vous me rendez la vie! If you can stand Mitchy you can stand any of us!" "Upon my honour I should think so!" Mr. Cashmore was eager to remark. "What on earth do you mean," he demanded of Mrs. Brook, "by saying that I'm more 'minute' than he?" She turned her beauty an instant on this critic.

Returning by the other side were Hood, chemist; Cashmore, draper; Carson, shoemaker; J.M. Chisholm and the Benjamins, soft goods; the hardware shop of William Witton, a leading Wesleyan, his Wesleyan Church, and the Bank of Australasia, which towered up, prince of the small squad. To the far east, on the south side, was our worthy Dr. Howitt's good house and garden.

Cashmore, ushered in and announced, had found in the act of helping himself to a cup of tea at the table apparently just prepared Harold Brookenham arrived at the point with a dash so direct as to leave the visitor an option between but two suppositions: that of a desperate plunge, to have his shame soon over, or that of the acquired habit of such appeals, which had taught him the easiest way.

"What sort of thing do you mean?" "Oh," said Mrs. Brook, "the whole question, don't you know? of bringing girls forward or not. The question of well, what do you call it? their exposure. Nanda of course is exposed," Mrs. Brook pursued "fearfully." "And what on earth is she exposed to?" Mr. Cashmore gaily demanded. "She's exposed to YOU, it would seem, my dear fellow!"

"You angel, you angel!" they found expression but in that. "I don't need to ask you to bring her, do I?" Vanderbank now said to his hostess. "I hope you don't mind my bragging all over the place of the great honour she did me the other day in appearing quite by herself." "Quite by herself? I say, Mrs. Brook!" Mr. Cashmore flourished on.

These visitors took a minute to appear, and Mrs. Brook, not stirring still only looking from the sofa calmly up at Mr. Cashmore used the time, it might have seemed, for correcting any impression of undue levity made by her recent question. "Where did you last meet Nanda?" He glanced at the door to see if he were heard. "At the Grendons'." "So you do go there?"

"Not of course on the chance of anything's happening to the dear child to whom nothing obviously CAN happen but that her aunt will marry her off in the shortest possible time and in the best possible conditions. No, the interest is much more in the way the Duchess herself steers." "Ah, she's in a boat," Mr. Cashmore fully concurred, "that will take a good bit of that." It is not for Mr.

Cashmore had a happy remembrance. "Why, this is Friday she must have gone to-day. But does she stay so late?" "She was to go afterwards to little Aggie: I'm trying so, in spite of difficulties," Mrs. Brook explained, "to keep them on together." She addressed herself with a new thought to Mr. Longdon.

"Heaven forbid!" and Van again retreated. "I'LL tell him like a shot if you really give me leave," said Mr. Cashmore, for whom any scruple referred itself manifestly not to the subject of the information but to the presence of a lady. "I DON'T give you leave and I beg you'll hold your tongue," Mrs. Brookenham returned. "You handle such matters with a minuteness ! In short," she broke off to Mr.