rd Hampstead, and was, he might say, intimately
acquainted with his lordship. He had been in the habit of meeting his
lordship at Castle Hautboy, the seat of his friend, Lord Persiflage,
and had often ridden with his lordship in the hunting-field. He knew
all about Lady Frances and the engagement, and had had the pleasure
of making the acquaintance of her ladyship. He had been corresponding
lately with Lord Hampstead on the subject. No;--he had not as yet
heard anything of Marion Fay, the Quaker's daughter. Then Clara
had something to say on her side. She quite understood that if she
expected to be communicated with, she also must communicate; and
moreover, young Mr. Crocker was by his age, appearance, and sex,
just such a one as prompted her to be communicative without loss of
self-respect. What was the good of telling things to Mrs. Duffer, who
was only an old widow without any friends, and with very small means
of existence? She had communicated her secrets to Mrs. Duffer simply
from want of a better pair of ears into which she could pour them.
But here was one in telling secrets to whom she could take delight,
and who had secrets of his own to give in return. It is not to be
supposed that the friendship which arose grew from the incidents of
one meeting only. On that first evening Crocker could not leave the
fair one without making arrangements for a further interview, and so
the matter grew. The intimacy between them was already of three days'
standing when the letter of invitation above given reached Crocker's
hands. To tell the very truth, the proposed party was made up chiefly
for Crocker's sake. What is the good of having a young man if you
cannot show him to your friends?

"Crocker!" said Mrs. Demijohn to her niece; "where did you pick up
Crocker?"

"What questions you do ask, aunt! Pick him up, indeed!"

"So you have--; picked him up, as you're always a doing with young
men. Only you never know how to keep 'em when you've got 'em."

"I declare, aunt, your vulgarity is unbearable."

"I'm not going to have any Crocker in my house," said the old woman,
"unless I know where he comes from. Perhaps he's a counter-skipper.
He may be a ticket-of-leave man for all you know."

"Aunt Jemima, you're so provoking that I sometimes think I shall have
to leave you."

"Where will you go to, my dear?"

To this question, which had often been asked before, Clara thought it
unnecessary to make any answer; but returned a