kneys, the like of which were never seen in the
county."

"Tell papa about his yacht," broke in the younger.

"I don't want to hear about his yacht; I 'd rather learn why he turned
me out of my old quarters."

"In all probability he never heard they were yours. Don't you know well
what sort of house this is,--how everybody does what he likes?"

"Why didn't Alice Lyle--Mrs. Trafford, I mean--tell him that I always
took these rooms."

"Because probably she was thinking of something else," said Miss Graham,
significantly. "Mrs. Chetwyn watched them as they drove up, and she
declared that, if Maitland had n't his hand in her muff, her eyes have
greatly deceived her."

"And what if he had?"

"Simply that it means they are on very excellent terms. Not that Alice
will make any real conquest there: for, as Mrs. Chetwyn said, 'he has
seen far too many of these fine-lady airs and graces to be taken by
them;' and she added, 'A frank, outspoken, natural girl, like your
sister there, always attracts men of this stamp.'"

"Why didn't he come over on Wednesday, then? It was his own appointment,
and we waited dinner till seven o'clock, and have not had so much as one
line--no, not one line of apology."

"Perhaps he was ill, perhaps he was absent; his note might have
miscarried. At all events, I 'd wait till we meet him, and see what
explanation he 'll make."

"Yes, papa," chimed in Beck, "just leave things alone. 'A strange hand
on the rod never hooked the salmon,' is a saying of your own."

"There's that stupid fellow brought the car round to the door; just
as if our splendid equipage had n't attracted criticism enough on our
arrival," said Miss Graham, as she opened the window, and by a gesture
more eloquent than graceful motioned to the servant to return to the
stableyard; "and there come the post-horses," added she, "for the
Chetwyns. Go now and secure her rooms before you 're too late;" and,
rather forcibly aiding her counsel, she bundled the old Commodore out of
the chamber, and resumed the unpacking of the wardrobe.

"I declare, I don't know what he'll interfere in next," said Miss
Graham.

"Yes," said Beck, with a weary sigh, "I wish he'd go back to the
American war, and what we did or did not do at Ticonderoga."

Leaving these young ladies to discuss in a spirit more critical than
affectionate the old Commodore's ways and habits, let us for a moment
return to Maitland who had admitted young Lyle after two uns