cted at once that the original of this
picture had offended her host, and that it would be in bad taste, and
might be offensive, to question him. Still the subject took possession
of her.

At about eight o'clock a servant announced candles in the drawing-room.

Upon this Mr. Raby rose, and, without giving her any option on the
matter, handed her to the door with obsolete deference.

In the drawing-room she found a harpsichord, a spinet, and a piano, all
tuned expressly for her. This amused her, as she had never seen either
of the two older instruments in her life. She played on them all three.

Mr. Raby had the doors thrown open to hear her.

She played some pretty little things from Mendelssohn, Spohr, and
Schubert.

The gentlemen smoked and praised.

Then she found an old music-book, and played Hamlet's overture to Otho,
and the minuet.

The gentlemen left off praising directly, and came silently into the
room to hear the immortal melodist. But this is the rule in music; the
lips praise the delicate gelatinous, the heart beats in silence at the
mighty melodious.

Tea and coffee came directly afterward, and ere they were disposed of, a
servant announced "The Wassailers."

"Well, let them come in," said Mr. Raby.

The school-children and young people of the village trooped in, and made
their obeisances, and sang the Christmas Carol--

"God rest you, merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay."

Then one of the party produced an image of the Virgin and Child, and
another offered comfits in a box; a third presented the wassail-cup,
into which Raby immediately poured some silver, and Coventry followed
his example. Grace fumbled for her purse, and, when she had found it,
began to fumble in it for her silver.

But Raby lost all patience, and said, "There, I give this for the lady,
and she'll pay me NEXT CHRISTMAS."

The wassailers departed, and the Squire went to say a kind word to his
humbler guests.

Miss Carden took that opportunity to ask Mr. Coventry if he had noticed
the picture with its face to the wall. He said he had.

"Do you know who it is?"

"No idea."

"Did you read the inscription?"

"No. But, if you are curious, I'll go back to the dining-room, and read
it."

"I'm afraid he might be angry. There is no excuse for going there now."

"Send me for your pocket-handkerchief."

"Please see whether I have left my pocket-handkerchief in the
dining-room, Mr. Coventry," said Grace,