y the Henrys, and once
more had had to go back to the paternal roof.

"It was nothing for Mossieu Henry in the long run," was his
stepmother's comment. But she laughed good-humouredly as she said it;
for, his first wrath at her intrusion over, Henry had more or less
become her friend; and now maintained that it was not a bad thing for
his old father to have a sensible, managing woman behind him. Tilly had
developed in many ways since her marriage; and Henry and she mutually
respected each other's practical qualities.

The upshot of the affair was, she now told Mary, that Miss Amelia's
male relatives had subscribed a dowry for her. "It was me that insisted
Henry should pay his share--him getting all the money 'e did with
Agnes." And Amelia was to be married off to--"Well, if you turn your
head, my dear, you'll see who. Back there, helping to hold up the
doorpost."

Under cover of Zara's roulades Mary cautiously looked round. It was
Henry's partner--young Grindle, now on the threshold of the thirties.
His side-whiskers a shade less flamboyant than of old, a heavy
watch-chain draped across his front, Grindle stood and lounged with his
hands in his pockets.

Mary made round eyes. "Oh, but Tilly!... isn't it very risky? He's so
much younger than she is. Suppose she shouldn't be happy?"

"That'll be all right, Mary, trust me. Only give 'er a handle to 'er
name, and Amelia 'ud be happy with any one. She hasn't THAT much
backbone in 'er. Besides, my dear, you think, she's over forty! Let her
take 'er chance and be thankful. It isn't every old maid 'ud get such
an offer."

"And is ... is HE agreeable?" asked Mary, still unconvinced.

Tilly half closed her right eye and protruded the tip of her tongue.
"You could stake your last fiver on it, he is!"

But now that portion of the entertainment devoted to art was at an end,
and the serious business of the evening began. Card-tables had been set
out--for loo, as for less hazardous games. In principle, Mahony
objected to the high play that was the order of the day; but if you
invited people to your house you could not ask them to screw their
points down from crowns to halfpence. They would have thanked you
kindly and have stayed at home. Here, at the loo-table places were
eagerly snapped up, Henry Ocock and his stepmother being among the
first to secure seats: both were keen, hard players, who invariably
re-lined their well-filled pockets.

It would not have been the thing