't think I heard you. But I can't stop. Here's
a note Redbud asked me to give you--for Fanny. She said you might be
going up to old Scowley's--"

"Might be! I rather think I am! Ah, Miss Redbud, you are a mischievous
one. But why take the trouble to say that of the divine sex? They're
all dangerous, scheming and satirical."

"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, as he tossed Ralph the note.

"Don't mind me," said Ralph; "I was just talking, as usual, at random,
and slandering the sex. But what are you sitting there for, my dear
Verty? Get down and come in. I'm dying of weariness."

Verty shook his head.

"I must go and see Mr. Roundjacket," he said.

"What! is he sick?"

"Yes."

"Much?"

Verty smiled.

"I think not," he said; "but I don't know--I havn't much time;
good-bye."

And touching Cloud with the spur, Verty went on. Ralph looked
after him for a moment, twirled the note in his fingers, read
the superscription,--"To Miss Fanny Temple,"--and then, laughing
carelessly, lounged into the house, intent on making a third in the
councils of those great captains, Mr. Jinks and the landlord.

We shall accompany Verty, who rode on quietly, and soon issued from
the town--that is to say, the more bustling portion of it; for
Winchester, at that time, consisted of but two streets, and even these
were mere roads, as they approached the suburbs.

Roundjacket's house was a handsome little cottage, embowered in trees,
on the far western outskirts of the town. Here the poet lived in
bachelor freedom, and with a degree of comfort which might have
induced any other man to be satisfied with his condition. We know,
from his own assertion, that Roundjacket was not;--he had an excellent
little house, a beautiful garden, every comfort which an ample
"estate" could bring him, but he had no wife. That was the one thing
needful.

Verty dismounted, and admiring the beautiful sward, the well tended
flowers, and the graceful appendages of the mansion--from the bronze
knocker, with Minerva's head upon it, to the slight and comfortable
wicker smoking-chairs upon the porch--opened the little gate, and
knocked.

An old negro woman, who superintended, with the assistance of her
equally aged husband, this bachelor paradise, appeared at the door;
and hearing Verty's request of audience, was going to prefer it to Mr.
Roundjacket.

This was rendered unnecessary, however, by the gentleman himself. He
called from the comfortable sitting-room