ere had been a sort of
mystified masque), "more particularly the fat old butler, of whom they
had made a Cupid, as Dick Griffin said, in order to show that love
becomes drowsy and dull by good eating and drinking--I DO wish you COULD
have been there, Jack."

Anna was a gentle feminine girl, with a most lovely and winning
countenance, and I did inherently like to hear her pronounce the word
"Jack"--it was so different from the boisterous screech of the Eton
boys, or the swaggering call of my boon companions at Oxford!

"I should have liked it excessively myself, Anna," I answered; "more
particularly as you seem to have so much enjoyed the fun."

"Yes, but that COULD NOT BE" interrupted Miss-Mrs. Norton, the
governess. "For Sir Harry Griffin is very difficult about his
associates, and you know, my dear, that Mr. Goldencalf, though a very
respectable young man himself, could not expect one of the oldest
baronets of the county to go out of his way to invite the son of a
stock-jobber to be present at a fete given to his own heir."

Luckily for Miss-Mrs. Norton, Dr. Etherington had walked away the
moment his daughter ended her recital, or she might have met with
a disagreeable commentary on her notions concerning the fitness of
associations. Anna herself looked earnestly at her governess, and I saw
a flush mantle over her sweet face that reminded me of the ruddiness of
morn. Her soft eyes then fell to the floor, and it was some time before
she spoke.

The next day I was arranging some fishing-tackle under a window of the
library, where my person was concealed by the shrubbery, when I heard
the melodious voice of Anna wishing the rector good morning. My heart
beat quicker as she approached the casement, tenderly inquiring of her
parent how he had passed the night. The answers were as affectionate as
the questions, and then there was a little pause.

"What is a stock-jobber, father?" suddenly resumed Anna, whom I heard
rustling the leaves above my head.

"A stock-jobber, my dear, is one who buys and sells in the public funds,
with a view to profit."

"And is it thought a PARTICULARLY disgraceful employment?"

"Why, that depends on circumstances. On 'Change it seems to be well
enough--among merchants and bankers there is some odium attached to it,
I believe."

"And can you say why, father?"

"I believe," said Dr. Etherington, laughing, "for no other reason
than that it is an uncertain calling--one that is liable to