ng a late breakfast, an elderly
gentleman drove up in a private hansom, and alighted at this vacant
house on the opposite side. Behind him, in a cab, came two men, who
unlocked the front door, went in, came out on the balcony, cut the wires
supporting the sign, took it down, opened all the inside shutters,
and disappeared through some rear entrance. The elderly gentleman went
upstairs for a moment, came down again, and drove away.

"The house has been sold, I suppose," said Salemina; "and for my part I
envy the new owner his bargain. He is close to Piccadilly, has that bit
of side lawn with the superb oak-tree, and the duke's beautiful gardens
so near that they will seem virtually his own when he looks from his
upper windows."

At tea-time the same elderly gentleman drove up in a victoria, with a
very pretty young lady.

"The plot thickens," said Francesca, who was nearest the window. "Do you
suppose she is his bride-elect, and is he showing her their future home,
or is she already his wife? If so, I fear me she married him for his
title and estates, for he is more than a shade too old for her."

"Don't be censorious, child," I remonstrated, taking my cup idly across
the room, to be nearer the scene of action. "Oh, dear! there is a slight
discrepancy, I confess, but I can explain it. This is how it happened:
The girl had never really loved, and did not know what the feeling was.
She did know that the aged suitor was a good and worthy man, and her
mother and nine small brothers and sisters (very much out at the toes)
urged the marriage. The father, too, had speculated heavily in consorts
or consuls, or whatever-you-call-'ems, and besought his child not to
expose his defalcations and losses. She, dutiful girl, did as she was
bid, especially as her youngest sister came to her in tears and said,
'Unless you consent we shall have to sell the cow!' So she went to the
altar with a heart full of palpitating respect, but no love to speak of;
that always comes in time to heroines who sacrifice themselves and spare
the cows."

"It sounds strangely familiar," remarked Mr. Beresford, who was with us,
as usual. "Didn't a fellow turn up in the next chapter, a young nephew
of the old husband, who fell in love with the bride, unconsciously and
against his will? Wasn't she obliged to take him into the conservatory,
at the end of a week, and say, 'G-go! I beseech you! for b-both our
sakes!'? Didn't the noble fellow wring her hand sil