circumstances, at almost the same time, is not it?"

Still he is silent.

"_Is not it?_" cry I, irritably, raising my voice.

Again he has thrown his head back, and is perusing the sky, his hands
clasped round one lifted knee.

"What _is_ a coincidence?" he says, languidly. "I do not think I quite
know--I am never good at long words--two things that happen accidentally
at the same time, is not it?"

He lays the faintest possible stress on the word accidentally.

"And you mean to say that this in not accidental?" I cry, quickly.

"I mean nothing; I only ask for information."

How still the world is to-day! The feathery water-weeds sway, indeed, to
and fro, with the motion of the water, but the tall cats'-tails, and all
the flags, stand absolutely motionless. I feel vaguely ruffled, and take
up my forgotten book. Holding it so as to hide my companion's face from
me, I begin to read ostentatiously. He seems content to be silent; lying
on the flat of his back, at the bottom of the punt, staring at the sky,
and declining the overtures, and parrying the attacks, of Vick, who,
having taken advantage of his supine position to mount upon his chest,
now stands there wagging her tail, and wasting herself in efforts,
mostly futile, but occasionally successful, to lick the end of his nose.
A period of quiet elapses, during which, for the sake of appearances, I
turn over a page. By-and-by, he speaks.

"Algy is your eldest brother, is not he?--get away, you little
beast!"--(the latter clause, in a tone of sudden exasperation, is
addressed, not to me, but to Vick, and tells me that my pet dog's
endeavors have been crowned with a tardy prosperity.)

"Yes" (still reading sedulously).

"I thought so," with a slight accent of satisfaction.

"Why?" cry I, again letting fall my volume, and yielding to a curiosity
as irresistible as unwise; for he had meant me to ask, and would have
been disobliged if I had not.

"We all have our hobbies, don't you know?" he says, shifting his eyes
from the sky, and fixing them on the less serene, less amiable object of
my face--"some people's is old china--some Elzevir editions--_I_ have a
mania for _clocks_--I have one in every room in my house--by-the-by, you
have never been over my house--Mrs. Huntley's--she is a dear little
woman, but she has her fancies, like the rest of us, and hers
is--_eldest sons_!"

"But she is married!" exclaim I, stupidly. "What good can they do her,
now?"--then