his
sentiment unfolded each singly and laid it before her. As he laid them
out, it struck him that she studied them quite as rapidly as he could
spread them. He slyly glanced up from the outer corner of his eye to
hers, and noticed that all she did was look at the name at the bottom of
the letter, and then put the enclosure aside without further ceremony.
He thought this an odd way of inquiring into the merits of forty-five
men who at considerable trouble gave in detail reasons why they believed
themselves well qualified for a certain post. She came to the final one,
and put it down with the rest.

Then the lady said that in her opinion it would be best to get as many
replies as they possibly could before selecting--'to give us a wider
choice. What do you think, Mr. Nyttleton?'

It seemed to him, he said, that a greater number than those they already
had would scarcely be necessary, and if they waited for more, there
would be this disadvantage attending it, that some of those they now
could command would possibly not be available.

'Never mind, we will run that risk,' said Miss Aldclyffe. 'Let the
advertisement be inserted once more, and then we will certainly settle
the matter.'

Mr. Nyttleton bowed, and seemed to think Miss Aldclyffe, for a single
woman, and one who till so very recently had never concerned herself
with business of any kind, a very meddlesome client. But she was rich,
and handsome still. 'She's a new broom in estate-management as yet,'
he thought. 'She will soon get tired of this,' and he parted from her
without a sentiment which could mar his habitual blandness.

The two ladies then proceeded westward. Dismissing the cab in Waterloo
Place, they went along Pall Mall on foot, where in place of the usual
well-dressed clubbists--rubicund with alcohol--were to be seen, in linen
pinafores, flocks of house-painters pallid from white lead. When they
had reached the Green Park, Cytherea proposed that they should sit down
awhile under the young elms at the brow of the hill. This they did--the
growl of Piccadilly on their left hand--the monastic seclusion of the
Palace on their right: before them, the clock tower of the Houses
of Parliament, standing forth with a metallic lustre against a livid
Lambeth sky.

Miss Aldclyffe still carried in her hand a copy of the newspaper, and
while Cytherea had been interesting herself in the picture around,
glanced again at the advertisement.

She heaved a slight si