did," growled Wagg between his teeth; they walked
home rather sulkily.

Wagg told the story at dinner very smartly, with wonderful accuracy of
observation. He described old John, the clothes that were drying,
the clogs in the hall, the drawing-room, and its furniture and
pictures;--"Old man with a beak and bald head--feu Pendennis I bet two
to one; sticking-plaster full-length of a youth in a cap and gown--the
present Marquis of Fairoaks, of course; the widow when young in a
miniature, Mrs. Mee; she had the gown on when we came, or a dress made
the year after, and the tips cut off the fingers of her gloves which she
stitches her son's collars with; and then the sarving maid came in
with their teas so we left the Earl and the Countess to their
bread-and-butter."

Blanche, near whom he sate as he told this story, and who adored les
hommes desprit, burst out laughing, and called him such an odd, droll
creature. But Pynsent, who began to be utterly disgusted with him, broke
out in a loud voice, and said, "I don't know, Mr. Wagg, what sort of
ladies you are accustomed to meet in your own family, but by gad, as far
as a first acquaintance can show, I never met two better-bred women in
my life, and I hope, ma'am, you'll call upon 'em," he added, addressing
Lady Rockminster, who was seated at Sir Francis Clavering's right hand.

Sir Francis turned to the guest on his left, and whispered. "That's
what I call a sticker for Wagg." And Lady Clavering, giving the young
gentleman a delighted tap with her fan, winked her black eyes at him,
and said, "Mr. Pynsent, you're a good feller."

After the affair with Blanche, a difference ever so slight, a tone
of melancholy, perhaps a little bitter, might be perceived in Laura's
converse with her cousin. She seemed to weigh him and find him wanting
too; the widow saw the girl's clear and honest eyes watching the young
man at times, and a look of almost scorn pass over her face, as he
lounged in the room with the women, or lazily sauntered smoking upon the
lawn, or lolled under a tree there over a book which he was too listless
to read.

"What has happened between you?" eager-sighted Helen asked of the girl.
"Something has happened. Has that wicked little Blanche been making
mischief? Tell me, Laura."

"Nothing has happened at all," Laura said.

"Then why do you look at Pen so?" asked his mother quickly.

"Look at him, dear mother!" said the girl. "We two women are no society
for hi