said, "we are evidently
not in the mood for further conviviality, so let us postpone the supper
to some other occasion. May I advise you not to wait until Susanna
returns. There is no chance of a reconciliation to-night."

"I dont want any reconciliation."

"Of course not; I had forgotten," replied Conolly, placably. "Then I
suppose you will go before she has finished dressing."

"I shall go now," said Marmaduke, buttoning his overcoat, and turning
away.

"Good-night," said Conolly.

"Good-night," muttered Marmaduke, petulantly, and disappeared.

Conolly waited a moment, so that he might not overtake Lind. He then
went for a cab, and waited at the stage door until his sister came down,
frowning. She got into the hansom without a word.

"Why dont you have a brougham, instead of going about in cabs?" he said,
as they drove away.

"Because I like a hansom better than a brougham; and I had rather pay
four shillings a night and travel comfortably, than thirteen and be half
suffocated."

"I thought the appearance of----"

"There is no use in your talking to me. I cant hear a word you say going
over these stones."

When they were alone together in their drawing-room in Lambeth, he,
after walking up and down the room a few times, and laughing softly to
himself, began to sing the couplets from the burlesque.

"Are you aware," she inquired, "that it is half past twelve, and that
the people of the house are trying to sleep."

"True," said he, desisting. "By the bye, I, too, have had my triumphs
this evening. I shared the honors of the concert with Master Lind, who
was so delighted that he insisted on bringing me off to the Bijou. He
loves you to distraction, poor devil!"

"Yes: you made a nice piece of mischief there. Where is he?"

"Gone away in a rage, swearing never to speak to you again."

"Hm! And so his name is Lind, is it?"

"Didnt you know?"

"No, or I should have told you when I read the program this evening. The
young villain pretended that his name was Marmaduke Sharp."

"Ah! The name reminds me of one of his cousins, a little spitfire that
snaps at every one who presumes to talk to her."

"His cousins! Oh, of course; you met them at the concert. What are they
like? Are they swells?"

"Yes, they seem to be. There were only two cousins, Miss McQuinch and a
young woman named Marian, blonde and rather good looking. There was a
brother of hers there, but he is only a parson, and a tall fellow name