e peculiar breed, but what brings her head
ower her rump?"

Sir Andrew was left to finish his criticism alone, the company moving
on to a portrait assigned to Vandyck, as Diedrich von Aevenghem,
Burgomaster of Antwerp.

"A fine head!" exclaimed Mrs. White, authoritatively; "don't you think
so, Mr. Howie?"

"A very choice specimen of the great master, for which, doubtless, you
gave a large sum."

"Four hundred, if I remember aright," said Cashel.

"I think he maught hae a clean face for that money," broke in Sir
Andrew.

"What do you mean, sir?" said Miss Kennyfeck, insidiously, and delighted
at the misery Lady Janet endured from his remarks.

"Don't ye mind the smut he has on ane cheek?"

"It's the shadow of his nose, Sir Andrew," broke in Lady Janet, with a
sharpness of rebuke there was no misunderstanding.

"Eh, my leddy, so it may, but ye need na bite mine off, for a' that!"
And so saying, the discomfited veteran fell back in high dudgeon.

The party now broke into the twos and threes invariable on such
occasions, and While Mrs. Kennyfeck and her elder daughter paid their
most devoted attentions to Lady Janet, Mrs. White and the author paired
off, leaving Olivia Kennyfeck to the guidance of Cashel.

"So you 'll positively not tell me what it is that preys on your mind
this morning?" said she, in the most insinuating of soft accents.

Cashel shook his head mournfully, and said,--

"Why should I tell you of what it is impossible you could give me
any counsel in, while your sympathy would only cause uneasiness to
yourself?"

"But you forget our compact," said she, archly; "there was to be perfect
confidence on both sides, was there not?"

"Certainly. Now, when shall we begin?"

"Have you not begun already?"

"I fancy not. Do you remember two evenings ago, when I came suddenly
into the drawing-room and found you pencil in hand, and you, instead of
at once showing me what you had been sketching, shut the portfolio, and
carried it off, despite all my entreaties--nay, all my just demands?"

"Oh, but," said she, smiling, "confidence is one thing--confession is
another."

"Too subtle distinctions for me," cried Cashel. "I foolishly supposed
that there was to be an unreserved--"

"Speak lower, for mercy sake!--don't you perceive Lady Janet trying to
hear everything you say?" This was said in a soft whisper, while she
added aloud, "I think you said it was a Correggio, Mr. Cashel," as they
stood before