aves; and there dangled over his arm
the slenderest of walking sticks.

"Mrs. Spence!" he lisped, with every appearance of joy.

"Mr. Cuthbert!" she cried.

"Going in to see Jerry?" he inquired after he had put on his hat, nodding
up at the sign.

"I--that is, yes, I had thought of it," she answered.

"Town house?" said Mr. Cuthbert, with a knowing smile.

"I did have an idea of looking at houses," she confessed, somewhat taken
aback.

"I'm your man," announced Mr. Cuthbert.

"You!" exclaimed Honora, with an air of considering the lilies of the
field. But he did not seem to take offence.

"That's my business," he proclaimed,--"when in town. Jerry gives me a
commission. Come in and see him, while I get a list and some keys. By the
way, you wouldn't object to telling him you were a friend of mine, would
you?"

"Not at all," said Honora, laughing.

Mr. Shorter was a jovial gentleman in loose-fitting clothes, and he was
exceedingly glad to meet Mr. Cuthbert's friend.

"What kind of a house do you want, Mrs. Spence?" he asked. "Cuthbert
tells me this morning that the Whitworth house has come into the market.
You couldn't have a better location than that, on the Avenue between the
Cathedral and the Park."

"Oh," said Honora with a gasp, "that's much too expensive, I'm sure. And
there are only two of us." She hesitated, a little alarmed at the
rapidity with which affairs were proceeding, and added: "I ought to tell
you that I've not really decided to take a house. I wished to--to see
what there was to be had, and then I should have to consult my husband."

She gazed very seriously into Mr. Shorter's brown eyes, which became very
wide and serious, too. But all the time it seemed to her that other parts
of him were laughing.

"Husbands," he declared, "are kill-joys. What have they got to do with a
house--except to sleep in it? Now I haven't the pleasure of knowing you
as well as I hope to one of these days, Mrs. Spence--"

"Oh, I say!" interrupted Mr. Cuthbert.

"But I venture to predict, on a slight acquaintance," continued Mr.
Shorter, undisturbed, "that you will pick out the house you want, and
that your husband will move into it."

Honora could not help laughing. And Mr. Shorter leaned back in his
revolving chair and laughed, too, in so alarming a manner as to lead her
to fear he would fall over backwards. But Mr. Cuthbert, who did not
appear to perceive the humour in this conversation, extracted some