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through the highly orthodox lens of the very neat curates, and the sober, staid circle of Miss Johnstone's friends.

"Oh, Mim!" she groaned, when alone with me, after some more trying ordeal than usual; "that old man is a perfect afflic. tion I adore Aunt Jane, but I can never stand all his whims and oddities. I shall marry the first man that asks me."

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"And be a greater goose than I take you for," I interrupted. People often tumble from the frying-pan into the fire who adopt that principle."

"But did you see him to-day?" she said, energetically," when Mr. and Mrs. Baines, the clergyman and his wife, passed down the front steps-such delightful people and give such nice parties !—I declare if he didn't go on painting that ugly old press, which he must needs drag into the most conspicuous part of the gravel-walk -that horrid thing he picked up at one of those vulgar auctions he is so fond of frequenting; and there he went on painting, without paying the least attention to them, which, by the way, I was rather glad of. I was so afraid he would speak to me familiarly; my only hope was, that they would take him for what he resembled. All that varnishing-ugh !-will be the death of me, and is wearing Aunt Jane to nothing. She gets as nervous as possible, I can see, when visitors call, not knowing but what he will walk into the drawing-room, paint-brush in hand, and exhibit his mountebank costume to the people present. He would think nothing of doing SO. He has not the least consideration for our feelings."

"Well, dear, I hope you feel better after this explosion. I am sure I think he is a very kind, good old man to give us a home; the least we can do is to put up with his eccentricities."

"Stuff and nonsense! Are you to put up with pin-pricks for ever? A pin is a very small instrument of torture, and one to which we are at the same time much indebted, but if it pricks we are apt to forget its virtues; and that is how I regard Uncle Worthington's amiable ecentricities, and my intention is to escape this mode of social misery as soon as I can, even if I have to marry my grandfather to get rid of it!"

"It is to be hoped, then, your grandfather in question will be a man of fashion," I said, with a laugh.

"I should think so. As if I would marry any other !"'

CHAPTER VI.

"Two men I honour, and no third. First, the toil-worn Crafteman. . . . A second man I honour, and still more highly: Him who is seen toiling for the spiritually indispensable: not daily bread, but the bread of life. . . . Unspeakably touching is it, however, when I find both dignities united; and he that must toil outwardly for the lowest of man's wants, is also toiling inwardly for the highest. . . . . Such a one will take thee back to Nazareth itself." Sartor Resartus.

Most people have a pet lobby. My uncle's hobby was driving a bargain. He loved an auction, and would display his purchases. with great pride, especially if they had been knocked down to him for that disused coinage, “an old song."

Finding him perfectly unmanageable, my aunt and Dolly had handed him over to me, as they fancied that I could influence and restrain him, and they would often exhort me to look after him when I accompanied him on his various expeditions in search of bargains.

"My dear Mary, do see that he does not throw away his money on useless things. The amount of rubbish and old lumber he has imported into the house since we have been here is quite lamentable," said Aunt Jane.

"And whatever you do, keep clear of paint and varnish shops!" exclaimed Dolly.

Thus it was I had to keep him in hand, and I found it no easy task to drive a man as well as his hobby judiciously.

It was on our return from one of these excursions that I found Dolly and my aunt in a state of great excitement.

"Only fancy, Mim! we have had a letter from India" said Dolly.

"Indeed! who from? I thought our connection with that country had long ago ceased."

"It seems not. Aunt Jane has had such a delightful letter from Colonel Domville, an old friend of our father's. Do you know anything about him, Aunt Jane "

"No, my dear, unless--stop-let me think she exclaimed, putting her hand to her head to quicken her thoughts. "Domville? -Domville? the name seems not altogether strange. Now where have I heard it-ah-now I know! Domville was the name of the gentleman who wrote to your poor mother on your father's death. It was when you were children. Can you remember?"

We remembered the circumstance but not the name.

"Well, dears, he has written a very kind letter, asking if he may come and see you."

Suddenly it flashed across my mind that he was the source of our mystericus income; and I said as much to my aunt and Dolly.

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Possibly, yet it is hard to say why he should be; for he was only a friend of your father's, and friends are not usually so Quixotic. In any case, it would be indelicate to tax him with it; so be careful," said my aunt.

"Of course!" exclaimed Dolly, who dreaded any interference that might cripple our resources. Instantly her mind flew off in another direction.

"Oh, Aunt Jane, what shall we do if Uncle Worthington gocs on in his queer way when Colonel Domville arrives?"

My aunt gave a worried shake of her head as she left the room to receive a visit from our next-door neighbour, Mrs. Freeman, a poor, faded little creature, with a large family and a tiresome husband.

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Why do you teaze Aunt Jane in this manner?" I said, after she had gone. "I declare it is too bad of you. If Colonel Domville cannot like us for ourselves he is not worth knowing. So, in any case, there is no necessity for us to make ourselves uncomfortable about him."

"There, Mim, that will do," object to preaching at all times; what Colonel Domville is like, speculation."

said Dolly, cutting me short. "I but just now I am dying to know and in no mood for any deeper

We were not allowed to continue our discussion further, as my aunt sent a request that we would come to the drawing-room and help her to receive some other visitors who had just arrived: some exceedingly fashionable people, who had done us the civility of calling through an introduction; and as this was a first visit, my aunt wished to introduce us.

We were in the midst of a most animated conversation on all the polite topics usually discussed in a morning call, when who should invade our polished circle but my uncle, holding his varnish pot in one hand, and a brush in the other; his costume complete, even to the Panama hat.

I thought Dolly would have fainted. My aunt preserved her self-possession splendidly, and introduced my uncle with the utmost dignity; but as he was full of other matter than that of entertaining strangers, even though they might have been angels unawares, he went straight to the point for which he came.

"Mary, my dear," he said, addressing me, "I wish you would go down to Mrs. O'Brien, the brokeress, for me, the auction is over by this, and see if she has purchased that chair we saw to-day. I want it for my cabin. Offer her fifty shillings, not a penny more; I would go, only I want to give that table we bought another coat of varnish. Good day!" Then, with a bow to the visitors, he vanished.

Dolly gave an unutterable look, her face dyed with annoyance. My aunt, however, was admirable, and resumed the conversation regardless of the interruption. I admired her presence of mind, which treated the circumstance as quite in the order of things, and beyond the necessity of apology. It was not until our visitors had gone that I knew how much she had been annoyed.

"Too bad of him!" she exclaimed; "but nothing will alter him; he is so utterly indifferent to appearances."

"I think he is very selfish," said Dolly, ready to cry. ought to consider our feelings more than he does."

"He

I had to leave them to discharge my uncle's commission. Having done so on this and several occasions to his entire satisfaction, he often entrusted me with his purchases and it was about six weeks after the above unlucky contretemps that I was again on my way to Mrs. O'Brien's second-hand repository.

On arriving there I found the shop deserted. I knocked in vain. on the ground with my parasol; but after half a dozen ineffectual attempts to rouse the genii of the place, I began to pilot my way amid a fresh importation of newly-bought goods which were deposited in every direction likely to prevent my reaching the opposite door, which contained two oval panes of glass let into the upper panels, and were the gigantic magnifiers through which Mrs. O'Brien, from within, discovered the presence of a customer.

I found the pathway impassable. Such shoals and quicksands of crockery were sure to end in ruin, however softly I might tread. And so it turned out. Attempting to steady myself and avoid the avalanche of falling crockery I feared to drag about me, I caught at something- at what, in that chaos, it was impossible to say. All my efforts were in vain, down I fell amid the crash of furniture and ruins of glass, conscious only of an acute pain and a strong disposition to cry when I had reached the abyss.

"Merciful powers! what's happened," exclaimed Mrs. O'Brien, a woman of the feather-bed-tied-in-two mould of form, who came running in from the back regions of her establishment. "It's that drunken wretch O'Brien; for sure, he's bin to the cupboard agin, and pounds wouldn't pay for what the divil smashes when the the dhrop is in him!"

"If you please," I said, meekly, "would you help me up; I have hurt my wrist and cut myself, I think. I couldn't help falling. I'll pay for what is broken."

Bless

you, Miss, is it you?" she cried, in distress, coming to my rescue. "I declare it is too bad of O'Brien! It is all his fault, this. I can't lave him a minit but he's off. I tould him, ses I, 'Just you clear thim things away, and get the place straight, as I was busy behind there;' but niver a word does he mind!" and

she groaned as she thought of her hopeless affliction in the shape of a husband.

I was soon up preparing to go, when I became faint and must have fallen again had she not caught me.

"Come along in here, my dear," I heard her say, "and lie down on the sofa. Here, O'Brien, you scoundrel! here's a nice mornin's work you've bin and done. Just be off now, and see if ye can meet with the Docther Addison here any ways, goin' on his rounds. If ye do, just bring him in here to look at the young lady; her wrist is very bad. Indeed, I can't be sure if ye havn't kilt her outright, and then you'll be hung for it, bad luck to ye! and it's I, for one, won't be sorry for that same! There, don't stand there gaping." Here her voice and the room grew indistinct and I heard nothing more.

I had fainted with pain and fright, not being a very robust girl. On returning to consciousness I saw a strange face bending over me, and a hand holding my wrist with a gentle touch.

"Excuse me; Miss Prior, I believe?" he began, seeing I was awake. The voice had a pleasant sound that made me feel at ease. "I am sorry to tell you," he continued, "that you have injured your wrist severely; broken one of the small bones, in fact. I think, if you will allow me, I will set it for you at once; and will be as gentle as I can," he added, with a smile.

I signified my readiness to undergo the operation if he thought it necessary.

"I do, most certainly. If you take it in time, your recovery will be all the easier."

I yielded shiveringly, and in watching my sufferings Mrs. O'Brien became so volcanic that she was obliged to go out and administer another scolding to Mr. O'Brien, who, I have no doubt, was glad to shelter himself in some tavern for the rest of the day from the wrath of his wife, who was for ever holding up his deserved end, in the form of the gallows, before his inebriate mind.

In the meantime the stranger at my side was setting my wrist; I striving to be calm under the painful operation, and every now and then observing him. He was a man who looked about thirty, with a fine face, and manly, earnest grey eyes, that could look, when they pleased, "the whole world in the face." He was not handsome, but he had such an expression of truthfulness, it was impossible not to be struck by. His forehead was square and intellectual, with soft brown hair arranged in no orderly way beyond being well brushed off his temples; a good nose, and well cut mouth of most determined expression, which might induce fear until he let the sunshine of a most perfect smile show how utterly gentle and sympathetic he could be. He wore a moustache, and

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