with their unwillingness to encourage mendicancy. A noble self-denial,
prompted by charity organizations! Hullo!--what's this? 'Heroic rescue
from drowning at St. Sennans-on-Sea.' H'm--h'm--h'm!--can't read all
that. But _that's_ where the married couple went--St. Sennans-on-Sea.
The bride announced her intention yesterday of looking in at five
to-day for tea. So I suppose I shall be disturbed shortly."

The soliloquist thought it necessary to repeat his last words twice
to convince himself and the atmosphere that his position was one of
grievance. Having done this, and feeling he ought to substantiate his
suggestion that he was just on the point of putting salt on the tail
of an unidentified Samnite, or a finishing touch on the demolition of
Bopsius, he folded his newspaper, which we suspect he had not been
reading candidly from, and resumed his writing.

Did you ever have a quarter of an hour of absolutely unalloyed
happiness? Probably not, if you have never known the joys of profound
antiquarian erudition, with an unelucidated past behind you, and
inexpensive publication before. The Professor's fifteen minutes that
followed were not only without alloy, but had this additional
zest--that that girl would come bothering in directly, and he would
get his grievance, and work it. And at no serious expense, for he was
really very partial to his daughter, and meant, _au fond de soi_, to
enjoy her visit. Nevertheless, discipline had to be maintained, if
only for purposes of self-deception, and the Professor really believed
in his own "Humph! I supposed it would be that," when Laetitia's knock
came at the street door.

"Such a shame to disturb you, papa dear! But you'll have to give me
tea--you said you would."

"It isn't five o'clock yet. Well--never mind. Sit down and don't
fidget. I shall have done presently.... No! make yourself useful now
you _are_ here. Get me 'Passeri Picturae Etruscorum,' volume three,
out of shelf C near the window ... that's right. Very good find for
a young married woman. Now sit down and read the paper--there's
something will interest you. You may ring for tea, only don't talk."

The Professor then became demonstratively absorbed in the Sabellians,
or Bopsius, or both, and Laetitia acted as instructed, but without
coming on the newspaper-paragraph. She couldn't ask for a clue after
so broad a hint, so she had to be contented with supposing her father
referred to the return of Sir Charles Pende