the odd
times. That's the part of an intimate friend, isn't it, Mr. Derosne?"

Medland was speaking to Norburn, and Dick took the opportunity of
remarking,

"Mayn't I come at an odd time now and then?"

"Oh do. We shall be so pleased."

"Mr. Norburn doesn't come at all of them, does he?"

"At most. Do you mind that?"

"Of course I do. Who wouldn't?"

"I don't."

"No, if you did I shouldn't."

Dick was, it must be admitted, getting along very well, considering that
he had only been presented to the young lady ten minutes before. That
was Dick's way; and when the young lady is attractive, it is a way that
has many recommendations, only sometimes it leads to a pitfall--a cold
answer, or a snub.

"But why," asked Daisy, in apparent surprise, "should you mind about
what I thought? I'm afraid I should never think about whether you liked
it or not, you know."

"Good-night," said Dick. And when he got outside and was lighting his
cigar, he exclaimed, "Confound the girl!" And after a pause he added,
"Hang the fellow!" and shook his head and went home.

CHAPTER IV.

WEEDING OUT THE WEAK-KNEED.

In a short time it happened that Lady Eynesford conceived a high opinion
of Mr. Coxon. He was, she declared, the one bright spot in the new
Ministry; he possessed ability, principle, sound Churchmanship, and
gentlemanly demeanour. A young man thus equipped could hardly fail of
success, and Lady Eynesford, in spite of the Governor's decidedly
lukewarm approbation, was pleased to take the Attorney-General under her
special protection. More than once in the next week or two did Mr.
Coxon, tall-hatted, frock-coated, and new-gloved, in obedience to
cordial invitations, take tea in the verandah of Government House. He
was naturally gratified by these attentions, and, being not devoid of
ambition, soon began to look upon his position as the starting-point for
a greater prize. Lady Eynesford was, here again, with him--up to a
point. She thought (and thoughts are apt to put themselves with a
bluntness which would be inexcusable in speech) that it was high time
that Eleanor Scaife was married, and, from an abstract point of view,
this could hardly be denied. Lady Eynesford took the next step. Eleanor
and Coxon would suit one another to perfection. Hence the invitations to
tea, and Lady Eynesford's considerate withdrawals into the house, or out
of sight in the garden. Of course it was impossible to gauge Eleanor's
views a