ber, "there's been a catastrophe; cook forgot to order the
turkey, went to bed last night in hysterics, and blew out the gas
instead of turning it off. No, no"--as the guests expecting fatal
consequences, looked as if they thought they had better remove
themselves: "she came round, and Duncombe has driven over to
Backsworth to bring home the dinner. He'll soon be back."

This not appearing greatly to reassure the visitors, the Professor
added, "No, no, ladies. Mrs. Duncombe charged me to say that she
will be perfectly fixed in a short time, and I flatter myself that
my wife is equal to any emergency."

"It is very kind in her," said Lady Tyrrell.

"I confess," said Professor Tallboys, "that I am not sorry that such
an occasion should occur of showing an American lady's domestic
powers. I flatter myself they do not discredit her cause."

Just then were heard the wheels of the drag, and in rushed one of
the boys, grasping Eleonora's skirts, and proclaiming, "We've got
the grub! Oysters and a pie! Oh my!"

"Satisfactory!" said the friend. "But let go, Ducky, you are
rumpling Miss Vivian."

"She's coming to see the quarion! You promised, Lena! Here's a
jolly crayfish! He'll pinch!"

There was a small conservatory or glazed niche on one side of the
room, into which the boy dragged Lenore, and Julius followed, dimly
sensible of what the quarion might be, and hoping for a word with
the young lady, while he trusted to his wife to occupy her sister.

The place contained two desolate camellias, with leaves in the same
proportion as those on trees in the earlier ages of illumination,
and one scraggy, leafless geranium, besides a green and stagnant
tank, where a goldfish moved about, flapping and gasping, as the boy
disturbed it in his search for the crayfish. He absorbed all the
conversation, so that Julius could only look back into the room,
where an attempt at artistic effect was still dimly visible through
accumulated litter. The Venus of Milo stood on a bracket, with a
riding-whip in her arms, and a bundle of working society tickets
behind her, and her vis-a-vis, the Faun of Praxiteles, was capped by
a glove with one finger pointing upwards, and had a ball of worsted
tangled about his legs; but further observation was hindered by the
man-servant's voice at the outer door, "Master Ducky, where are you?
Your ma says you are to go to bed directly."

"No, no, I'll put myself to bed!"

"Come, sir, please d