had undoubtedly been
succoured and defended in a very remarkable manner on more than one
occasion, some benevolent entity from a better world might have had a
hand in it. The worthy lady, of course, could not resist the
temptation of informing Mr Sheepshanks of what her bankers had said
about the investment he had so earnestly urged upon her, and the vicar
seemed greatly surprised. He had not put any money into it himself, it
was true, but was being sorely tempted by another prospectus he had
just received of an enterprise for recovering the baggage which King
John lost some centuries ago in the Wash. The only consideration that
made him hesitate was the uncertainty whether, in view of the
perishable nature of the things themselves, they would be worth very
much to anybody if ever they were fished up.

"Austin," said Aunt Charlotte, two days afterwards at breakfast, "I
have had another letter from Mr Ogilvie. Of course I wrote to him when
I heard first, saying how pleased I should be to see him whenever he
was in the neighbourhood again; and now I have his reply. He proposes
to call here to-morrow afternoon, and have a cup of tea with us."

"So the fateful day has come at last," remarked Austin. "Very well,
auntie, I'll make myself scarce while you're talking over old times
together, but I insist on coming in before he goes, remember. I'm
awfully curious to see what he's like. Do you think he wears a wig?"

"I really haven't thought about it," replied his aunt. "It's nothing
to me whether he does or not--or to you either, for the matter of
that. Of course you must present yourself to him some time or other;
it would be most discourteous not to. And do, if you can, try and
behave rather more like other people. Don't parade your terrible
ignorance of geography, for instance, as you do sometimes. He would
think that I had neglected your education disgracefully, and seeing
what a traveller he's been himself--"

"All right, auntie, I won't give you away," Austin assured her. "You'd
better tell him what a horrid dunce I am before I come in, and then he
won't be so surprised if I do put my foot in it. After all, we're not
sure that he's been a traveller. He may be a painter. Lubin says that
lots of painters come down here sometimes. My own idea is that he'll
turn out to be nothing but a bank manager, or perhaps a stockbroker. I
expect he's rolling in money."

Austin had said nothing to his aunt about the lady who had look