object is to secure secresy; but, at the same time, nothing is easier than to avoid the slightest unpleasantness."

66 Of course, of course," said the discreet apothecary. "I apprehend your meaning in a moment, my dear young lady. You wish me to be a witness, but an invisible one. You must receive the visitors in the front drawing-room. If you will kindly have the lamp lighted there, and leave me here in darkness" (and, he might have added, “in discretion”), "with one of the folding-doors the slightest degree in the world on the jar, I shall be an auditor to all that passes, and you may depend on my adroitness to see as well as hear."

Miss Adelaide Bunnycastle clapped her hands in grave applause at the apothecary's suggestion. Celia regarded him with eyes of favour. Barbara smiled upon him. Old Mrs. Bunnycastle was just on the point of asking him if he would take just one little drop more of spirits-and-water (although I am certain that Drax, in his discretion, would have refused), when the gate bell was rung, and, a moment afterwards, the sound of carriage-wheels was heard crunching the gravel-walk before Rhododendron House. The ladies hurried into the drawing-room.

A solemn lamp with a green shade round it was hastily illumined; and presently Pepper announced that two gentlemen, with a little child, requested an interview with Mrs. and the Miss Bunnycastles.

CHAPTER VI.

LILY SITS UP LATE.

FRANCIS BLUNT, ESQ., sometimes called Frank, but familiarly known as Griffin, entered the scholastic presence with the assured step of one who felt himself among those ready to do him homage. He was still exquisitely polite-indeed, courting was second nature to him; but his politeness was the condescension of a sovereign among his subjects -of the Marquis de Carabas among his vassals.

Mr. Blunt had thrown over his attire of the afternoon a long ample cloak of circular cut, deeply faced with velvet, and made of the finest broadcloth. It was called a "Spanish" cloak; and in Spanish I am afraid the eminent Mr. Nugee, the

tailor who had made it, was paid. Blunt had long since passed into that state of indebtedness when a man gets credit solely on the strength of his already owing so much.

Close upon his heels, and carrying a slight childish form wrapped up in a cloak, was Mr. Blunt's friend. Yes; he was his friend-his guide and philosopher too, although to the world the relation in which he stood towards the man of fashion was not more exalted than that of a valet de chambre. Mr. Blunt's friend was hero and valet in one, and looked each character equally well.

In his way he was as exquisitely dressed as his master. It is difficult to make anything remarkable out of a full suit of glossy black. You must needs look, in general, either like a waiter, or a doctor, or a schoolmaster, or an undertaker. The friend and valet of Francis Blunt, Esq., did not approach any one of the above-mentioned types of humanity. Mr. Nugee made the coats of the man as well as of the master. The valet's coat was perfection. It wasn't a body-coat, and it wasn't a swallow-tailnay, nor a frock, nor a surtout, nor a spenser, nor a shooting-jacket. It was a coat with which no

one could quarrel. It had the slightest clerical appearance, just tinged with a shade of the sporting cut. There is little need to say anything of the supplementary garments worn by Mr. Blunt's friend. That incomparable coat disarmed all ulterior criticism, and would have compensated for any short-comings in the remainder of the attire. Such short-comings, however, were nonexistent. Everything came up to a high standard of excellence. A delicate appreciation of art was shown in the thin brown gaiter with pearl buttons, that showed itself between the termination of the pantaloon and the foot of the varnished boot. A refined spirit of propriety was manifest in the narrow shirt-collar, and the quietly-folded scarf of black ribbed silk, fastened with a subdued cameo representing the profile of a Roman emperor. Even · that diamond ring to which Miss Bunnycastle had called attention, large and evidently valuable as it was, had nothing about it on which the imputation of obtrusiveness or vainglory could be fixed. It was worn on the little finger of the left hand, and rarely brought into play.

It is time to say a few words about the individual for whom a skilful tailor and his own