him.

"Won't you say good-bye?" said she, softly.

A look of insulting contempt was all his answer.

"Not one kind word at parting? Well, I am better than you; here's my
hand." And she held out her fair and taper fingers towards him.

"Fiend,--not woman!" was his muttered expression as he turned away.

"And a pleasant journey," said she, as if finishing a speech; while
turning, she gave her hand to Agincourt "Yes, to be sure, you may take
a boy's privilege, and give me a kiss at parting," said she; while the
youth, blushing a deep crimson, availed himself of the permission.

"There they go," said Sir William, as the horses rattled down the
avenue; "and a finer boy and a grumpier companion it has rarely been my
lot to meet with. A thousand pardons, my dear Mrs. Morris, if he is a
friend of yours."

"I knew him formerly," said she, coldly. "I can't say I ever liked him."

"I remember his name," said Sir William, in a sort of hesitating way;
"there was some story or other about him,--either his wife ran away, or
he eloped with somebody's wife."

"I 'm sure it must have been the former," said Mrs. Morris, laughing.
"Poor gentleman, he does not give one the impression of a Lothario.
But whom have we here? The O'Shea, I declare! Look to your heart, May
dearest; take my word for it, he never turned out so smartly without
dreams of conquest" Mr. O'Shea cantered up at the same moment, followed
by Joe in a most accurate "get up" as groom, and, dismounting, advanced,
hat in hand, to salute the party.

There are blank days in this life of ours in which even a pleasant
visitor is a bore,--times in which dulness and seclusion are the best
company, and it is anything but a boon to be broken in upon. It was the
O'Shea's evil fortune to have fallen on one of these. It was in vain he
recounted his club gossip about politics and party to Sir William; in
vain he told Mrs. Morris the last touching episode of town scandal; in
vain, even, did he present a fresh bouquet of lily-of-the-valley to May:
each in turn passed him on to the other, till he found himself alone
with Clara, who sat sorrowfully over the German lesson Layton was wont
to help her with.

"What's the matter with you all?" cried he, half angrily, as he walked
the room from end to end. "Has there any misfortune happened?"

"Charley has left us, Agincourt is just gone, the pleasant house is
broken up; is not that enough to make us sad?" said she, sorrowfully.

"If