beautiful!" cried Harry; "wonderfully lovely, and not less good and
kind!"

"You look kind enough yourself," she retorted; "and I wager you are
worth a dozen Lady Vandeleurs."

Harry was properly scandalised.

"I!" he cried. "I am only a secretary!"

"Do you mean that for me?" said the girl. "Because I am only a
housemaid, if you please." And then, relenting at the sight of Harry's
obvious confusion, "I know you mean nothing of the sort," she added;
"and I like your looks; but I think nothing of your Lady Vandeleur. Oh,
these mistresses!" she cried. "To send out a real gentleman like
you--with a bandbox--in broad day!"

During this talk they had remained in their original positions--she on
the doorstep, he on the side-walk, bare-headed for the sake of coolness,
and with the bandbox on his arm. But upon this last speech Harry, who
was unable to support such point-blank compliments to his appearance,
nor the encouraging look with which they were accompanied, began to
change his attitude, and glance from left to right in perturbation. In
so doing he turned his face towards the lower end of the lane, and
there, to his indescribable dismay, his eyes encountered those of
General Vandeleur. The General, in a prodigious fluster of heat, hurry,
and indignation, had been scouring the streets in chase of his
brother-in-law; but so soon as he caught a glimpse of the delinquent
secretary, his purpose changed, his anger flowed into a new channel, and
he turned on his heel and came tearing up the lane with truculent
gestures and vociferations.

Harry made but one bolt of it into the house, driving the maid before
him; and the door was slammed in his pursuer's countenance.

"Is there a bar? Will it lock?" asked Harry, while a salvo on the
knocker made the house echo from wall to wall.

"Why, what is wrong with you?" asked the maid. "Is it this old
gentleman?"

"If he gets hold of me," whispered Harry, "I am as good as dead. He has
been pursuing me all day, carries a sword-stick, and is an Indian
military officer."

"These are fine manners," cried the maid. "And what, if you please, may
be his name?"

"It is the General, my master," answered Harry. "He is after this
bandbox."

"Did not I tell you?" cried the maid in triumph. "I told you I thought
worse than nothing of your Lady Vandeleur; and if you had an eye in your
head you might see what she is for yourself. An ungrateful minx, I will
be bound for that!"

The Gen