.

"I manage to see better with--with these," she gasped, "when we get old
--you know."

"You hain't old," said Mr. Braden, gallantly. "If you be," he added, his
eye travelling up and down the Parisian curves, I wouldn't have suspected
it--not a mite."

"I'm afraid you are given to flattery, Mr.--Mr.--" she replied hurriedly.
"Whom have I the pleasure of speaking to?"

"Job Braden's my name," he answered, "but you have the advantage of me."

"How?" demanded the thoroughly bewildered Mrs. Pomfret.

"I hain't heard your name," he said.

"Oh, I'm Mrs. Pomfret--a very old friend of Mr. Crewe's. Whenever he has
his friends with him, like this, I come over and help him. It is so
difficult for a bachelor to entertain, Mr. Braden."

"Well," said Mr. Braden, bending alarmingly near her ear, "there's one
way out of it."

"What's that?" said Mrs. Pomfret.

"Git married," declared Mr. Braden.

"How very clever you are, Mr. Braden! I wish poor dear Mr. Crewe would
get married--a wife could take so many burdens off his shoulders. You
don't know Mr. Crewe very well, do you?"

"Callate to--so so," said Mr. Braden.

Mrs. Pomfret was at sea again.

"I mean, do you see him often?"

"Seen him once," said Mr. Braden. "G-guess that's enough."

"You're a shrewd judge of human nature, Mr. Braden," she replied, tapping
him on the shoulder with the lorgnette, "but you can have no idea how
good he is--how unceasingly he works for others. He is not a man who
gives much expression to his feelings, as no doubt you have discovered,
but if you knew him as I do, you would realize how much affection he has
for his country neighbours and how much he has their welfare at heart."

"Loves 'em--does he--loves 'em?"

"He is like an English gentleman in his sense of responsibility," said
Mrs. Pomfret; "over there, you know, it is a part of a country
gentleman's duty to improve the condition of his--his neighbours. And
then Mr. Crewe is so fond of his townspeople that he couldn't resist
doing this for them," and she indicated with a sweep of her eyeglasses
the beatitude with which they were surrounded.

"Wahn't no occasion to," said Mr. Braden.

"What!" cried Mrs. Pomfret, who had been walking on ice for some time.

"This hain't England--is it? Hain't England?"

"No," she admitted, "but--"

"Hain't England," said Mr. Braden, and leaned forward until he was within
a very few inches of her pearl ear-ring. "He'll be chose all
right--d