he wonder-working hand of time.

On another evening of another month in this same year, Mr Robert
Queeker--having just completed an ode to a star which had been recently
discovered by the Astronomer-Royal--walked from the door of the Fortress
Hotel, Ramsgate, and, wending his way leisurely along Harbour Street,
directed his steps towards Saint James's Hall.

Seven years had wrought a great change for the better in Mr Robert
Queeker. His once smooth face was decorated with a superb pair of
light-brown whiskers of the stamp now styled Dundreary. His clothes
fitted him well, and displayed to advantage a figure which, although
short, was well made and athletic. It was evident that time had not
caused his shadow to grow less. There was a jaunty, confident air about
him, too, which might have been thought quite in keeping with a red coat
and top-boots by his friends in Jenkinsjoy, and would have induced
hospitable Mr Stoutheart to let him once more try his fortune on the
back of Slapover without much anxiety as to the result; ay, even
although the sweet but reckless Amy were to be his leader in the field!
Nevertheless there was nothing of the coxcomb about Queeker--no
self-assertion; nothing but amiableness, self-satisfaction, and
enthusiasm.

Queeker smiled and hummed a tune to himself as he walked along drawing
on his gloves, which were lavender kid and exceedingly tight.

"It will be a great night," he murmured; "a grand, a glorious night."

As there was nothing peculiarly grand in the aspect of the weather, it
is to be presumed that he referred to something else, but he said
nothing more at the time, although he smiled a good deal and hummed a
good many snatches of popular airs as he walked along, still struggling
with the refractory fingers of the lavender kid gloves.

Arrived at Saint James's Hall, he took up a position outside the door,
and remained there as if waiting for some one.

It was evident that Mr Queeker's brief remark had reference to the
proceedings that were going on at the hall, because everything in and
around it, on that occasion, gave unquestionable evidence that there was
to be a "great night" there. The lobby blazed with light, and resounded
with voices and bustle, as people streamed in continuously. The
interior of the hall itself glowed like a red-hot chamber of gold, and
was tastefully decorated with flowers and flags and evergreens; while
the floor of the room was covered with long t