ole mass of papers crowded above it and underneath it,
pushed into the remotest corner. Lionel had left things connected with
the estate as straight as he could. He wished to explain affairs to John
Massingbird, and hand over documents and all else in due form, but he
was not allowed. Business and John had never agreed. John was sitting
now before the window, his elbows on the sill, a rough cap on his head,
and a short clay pipe in his mouth. Lionel glanced with dismay at the
confusion reigning amid the papers.

"Fare you well, John Massingbird," said Sibylla.

"Going?" said John, coolly turning round. "Good-day."

"And let me tell you, John Massingbird," continued Sibylla, "that if
ever you had got turned out of your home as you have turned us, you
would know what it was."

"Bless you! I've never had anything of my own to be turned out of,
except a tent," said John, with a laugh.

"It is to be hoped that you may, then, some time, and that you will be
turned out of it! That's my best wish for you, John Massingbird."

"I'd recommend you to be polite, young lady," returned John
good-humouredly. "If I sue your husband for back rents, you'd not be
quite so independent, I calculate."

"Back rents!" repeated she.

"Back rents," assented John. "But we'll leave that discussion to another
time. Don't you be saucy, Sibylla."

"John," said Lionel, pointing to the papers, "are you aware that some
valuable leases and other agreements are amongst those papers? You might
get into inextricable confusion with your tenants, were you to mislay,
or lose them."

"They are safe enough," said careless John, taking his pipe from his
mouth to speak.

"I wish you had allowed me to put things in order for you. You will be
wanting me to do it later."

"Not a bit of it," said John Massingbird. "I am not going to upset my
equanimity with leases, and bothers of that sort. Good-bye, old fellow.
Lionel!"

Lionel turned round. He had been going out.

"We part friends, don't we?"

"I can answer for myself," said Lionel, a frank smile rising to his
lips. "It would be unjust to blame you for taking what you have a right
to take."

"All right. Then, Lionel, you'll come and see me here?"

"Sometimes. Yes."

They went out to the carriage, Lionel conducting his wife, and John in
attendance, smoking his short pipe. The handsome carriage, with its coat
of ultra-marine, its rich white lining, its silver mountings, and its
arms on the pane