on of
angels.'

'And with these angels loitered away the time which ought to have been
devoted to good Mother Hubbard, in her fit of lumbago, and returned without
having set eyes on that afflicted Christian, to amaze his worthy sister
with poetic babblings about wood-nymphs and such pagan impieties,' rejoined
Lady Knollys.

'Well, be just,' he replied, laughing; 'did not I go next day and see the
patient?'

'Yes; next day you went by the same route--in quest of the dryads, I am
afraid--and were rewarded by the spectacle of Mother Hubbard.'

'Will nobody help a humane man in difficulties?' Mr. Carysbroke appealed.

'I do believe,' said the lady whom as yet I knew only as Mary, 'that every
word that Monica says is perfectly true.'

'And if it be so, am I not all the more in need of help? Truth is simply
the most dangerous kind of defamation, and I really think I'm most cruelly
persecuted.'

At this moment dinner was announced, and a meek and dapper little
clergyman, with smooth pink cheeks, and tresses parted down the middle,
whom I had not seen before, emerged from shadow.

This little man was assigned to Milly, Mr. Carysbroke to me, and I know not
how the remaining ladies divided the doctor between them.

That dinner, the first at Elverston, I remember as a very pleasant repast.
Everyone talked--it was impossible that conversation should flag where Lady
Knollys was; and Mr. Carysbroke was very agreeable and amusing. At the
other side of the table, the little pink curate, I was happy to see, was
prattling away, with a modest fluency, in an under-tone to Milly, who was
following my instructions most conscientiously, and speaking in so low a
key that I could hardly hear at the opposite side one word she was saying.

That night Cousin Monica paid us a visit, as we sat chatting by the fire in
our room; and I told her--

'I have just been telling Milly what an impression she has made. The pretty
little clergyman--_il en est epris_--he has evidently quite lost his heart
to her. I dare say he'll preach next Sunday on some of King Solomon's wise
sayings about the irresistible strength of women.'

'Yes,' said Lady Knollys,' or maybe on the sensible text, "Whoso findeth
a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour," and so forth. At all
events, I may say, Milly, whoso findeth a husband such as he, findeth a
tolerably good thing. He is an exemplary little creature, second son of Sir
Harry Biddlepen, with a little