do you think of Jasper's workman?"

"Not much," replied Elinor, shrugging her shoulders. "He is very
conceited, and very coarse."

"Do you really think so? I expected to find you delighted with his
unconventionality. I thought him rather amusing."

"I thought him extremely aggravating. I hate to have to speak to people
of that sort."

"Then you consider him vulgar," said Marian, disappointed.

"N--no. Not vulgarer than anybody else. He couldnt be that."

"Sherry and soda, Marian?" said Marmaduke, approaching.

"No, thank you, Marmaduke. Get Nelly something."

"As Miss McQuinch and I are no longer on speaking terms, I leave her to
the care of yonder scientific amateur, who has just refused, on teetotal
grounds, to pledge the Rev. George in a glass of eighteen shilling
sherry."

"Dont be silly, Marmaduke. Bring Nelly some soda water."

"Do nothing of the sort," said Miss McQuinch.

Marmaduke bowed and retired.

"What is the matter between you and Duke now?" said Marian.

"Nothing. I told him I loathed him."

"Oh! I dont wonder at his being a little huffed. How _can_ you say
things you dont mean?"

"I do mean them. What with his folly, Sholto's mean conceit, George's
hypocrisy, that man's vulgarity, Mrs. Fairfax's affectation, your
insufferable amiability, and the dreariness of those concertina people,
I feel so wretched that I could find it in my heart to loathe anybody
and everybody."

"Nonsense, Nelly! You are only in the blues."

"_Only_ in the blues!" said Miss McQuinch sarcastically. "Yes. That is
all."

"Take some sherry. It will brighten you up."

"Dutch courage! Thank you: I prefer my present moroseness."

"But you are not morose, Nelly."

"Oh, stuff, Marian! Dont throw away your amiability on me. Here comes
your new friend with refreshments. I wonder was he ever a waiter? He
looks exactly like one."

After this the conversation flagged. Mrs. Fairfax grew loquacious under
the influence of sherry, but presently a reaction set in, and she began
to yawn. Miss McQuinch, when her turn came, played worse than before,
and the audience, longing for another negro melody, paid little
attention to her. Marian sang a religious song, which was received with
the respect usually accorded to a dull sermon. The clergyman read a
comic essay of his own composition, and Mrs. Fairfax recited an ode to
Mazzini. The concertinists played an arrangement of a quartet by Onslow.
The working men and women of Wand