egnated his mind with that soothing sentiment, jealousy,
Walter told him he had a house to let on the estate--quite a gentleman's
house, only a little dilapidated, with a fine lawn and garden, only
neglected into a wilderness. "But all the better for you," said he. "You
have plenty of money, and no occupation. Perhaps that is what leads to
these little quarrels. It will amuse you to repair the crib and restore
the lawn. Why, there is a brook runs through it--it isn't every lawn has
that--and there used to be water-lilies floating, and peonies nodding
down at them from the bank: a paradise. She adores flowers, you know. Why
not rent that house from me? You will have constant occupation and
amusement. You will become a rival potentate to my governor. You will
take the shine out of him directly; you have only to give a ball, and
then all the girls will worship you, Julia Clifford especially, for she
could dance the devil to a stand-still."

Percy's eyes flashed. "When can I have the place?" said he, eagerly.

"In half an hour. I'll draw you a three months' agreement. Got any
paper? Of course not. Julia is so near. What are those? Playing-cards.
What do you play? 'Patience,' all by yourself. No wonder you are
quarrelsome! Nothing else to bestow your energy on."

Percy denied this imputation. The cards were for pistol practice. He shot
daily at the pips in the yard.

"It is the fiend _Ennui_ that loads your pistols, and your temper too.
Didn't I tell you so?"

Walter then demanded the ace of diamonds, and on its face let him the
house and premises on a repairing lease for three years, rent L5 a year:
which was a good bargain for both parties, since Percy was sure to lay
out a thousand pounds or two on the property, and to bind Julia more
closely to him, who was worth her weight in gold ten times over.

Walter had brought the keys with him, so he drove Percy over at once and
gave him possession, and, to do the little fellow justice, the moisture
of gratitude stood in his eyes when they parted.

Walter told Julia about it the same night, and her eyes were
eloquent too.

The next day he had a walk with Mary Bartley, and told her all about it.
She hung upon him, and gazed admiringly into his eyes all the time, and
they parted happy lovers.

Mr. Bartley met her at the gate, "Mary," said he, gravely, "who was that
I saw with you just now?"

"Cousin Walter."

"I feared so. You are too much with him."

Mary turned red