'No, hang me! no tricks!' my lord cried somewhat alarmed. 'Not that

'Not that I am likely to displace your lordship, her affections once gained,' said Mr. Pomeroy.

He lowered his face to hide a smile of bitter derision, but he had only the tutor to fear; for Lord Almeric, never very wise, was blinded by vanity. 'No, I should think not,' he said, with a conceit which came near to deserving the other's contempt. 'I should think not, Tommy. Give me twenty minutes of a start, as Jack Wilkes says, and you may follow as you please. I rather fancy I brought down the bird at the first shot?'

'Certainly, my lord.'

'I did, didn't I?'

'Most certainly, your lordship did,' repeated the obsequious tutor; who, basking in the smiles of his host's good-humour, began to think that things would run smoothly after all. So the lady was toasted, and toasted again. Nay, so great was Mr. Pomeroy's complaisance and so easy his mood, he must needs have up three or four bottles of Brook & Hellier that had lain in the cellar half a century-the last of a batch-and gave her a third time in bumpers and no heel-taps.

But that opened Mr. Thomasson's eyes. He saw that Pomeroy had reverted to his idea of the night before, and was bent on making the young fop drunk, and exposing him in that state to his mistress; perhaps had even the notion of pushing him on some rudeness that, unless she proved very compliant indeed, must ruin him for ever with her. Three was their dinner hour; it was not yet four, yet the young lord was already flushed and a little flustered, talked fast, swore at Jarvey, and bragged of the girl lightly and without reserve. By six o'clock, if something were not done, he would be unmanageable.

The tutor stood in no little awe of his host. He had tremors down his back when he thought of his violence; nor was this dogged persistence in a design, as cruel as it was cunning, calculated to lessen the feeling. But he had five thousand pounds at stake, a fortune on which he had been pluming himself since noon; it was no time for hesitation. They were dining in the hall at the table at which they had played cards the night before, Jarvey and Lord Almeric's servant attending them. Between the table and the staircase was a screen. The next time Lord Almeric's glass was filled, the tutor, in reaching something, upset the glass and its contents over his own breeches, and amid the

laughter of the other two retired behind the screen to be wiped. There he slipped a crown into the servant's hand, and whispered him to keep his master sober and he should have another.

Mr. Pomeroy saw nothing and heard nothing, and for a time suspected nothing. The servant was a crafty fellow, a London rascal, deft at whipping away full bottles. He was an age finding a clean glass, and slow in drawing the next cork. He filled the host's bumper, and Mr. Thomasson's, and had but half a glass for his master. The next bottle he impudently pronounced corked, and when Pomeroy cursed him for a liar, brought him some in an unwashed glass that had been used for Bordeaux. The wine was condemned, and went out; and though Pomeroy, with unflagging spirits, roared to Jarvey to open the other bottles, the butler had got the office, and was slow to bring it. The cheese came and went, and left Lord Almeric cooler than it found him. The tutor was overjoyed at the success of his tactics.

But when the board was cleared, and the bottles were set on, and the men withdrawn, Bully Pomeroy began to push what remained of the Brooks & Hellier after a fashion that boded an early defeat to the tutor's precautions. It was in vain Thomasson clung to the bottle and sometimes returned it Hertfordshire fashion. The only result was that Mr. Pomeroy smelt a rat, gave Lord Almeric a back-hander, and sent the bottle on again, with a grin that told the tutor he was understood.

After that Mr. Thomasson had the choice between sitting still and taking his own part. It was neck or nothing. Lord Almeric was already hiccoughing and would soon be talking thickly. The next time the bottle came round, the tutor retained it, and when Lord Almeric reached for it, 'No, my lord,' he said, laughing; Venus first and Bacchus afterwards. Your lordship has to wait on the lady. When you come down, with Mr. Pomeroy's leave, we'll crack another bottle.'

My lord withdrew his hand more readily than the other had hoped. Right, Tommy,' he said. 'I'll wait till I come down. What's that song, "Rich the treasure, sweet the pleasure, sweet is pleasure after pain"? Oh, no, damme! I don't mean that,' he continued. No. How does it go?'

Mr. Pomeroy thrust the bottle into his hands, looking daggers the while at the tutor. Take another glass,' he cried boisterously. "Swounds, the girl will like you the better for it.'

'D'ye think so, Pom? Honest ?'

'Sure of it. "Twill give you spirit, my lord.'

'So it will.'

'At her and kiss her! Are you going to be governed all your life by that whey-faced old Methodist? Or be your own man? Tell me that.'

'My lord, there's fifty thousand pounds upon it,' said Thomasson, his face red. And he pushed back the bottle. The setting sun, peeping a moment through the rain clouds, flung an angry yellow light on the board and the three flushed faces round it. 'Fifty thousand pounds,' repeated Mr. Thomasson firmly.

'Damme! so there is!' my lord answered, settling his chin in his cravat and dusting the crumbs from his breeches. I'll take no more. So there!'

'I thought your lordship was a good-humoured man and no flincher,' Mr. Pomeroy retorted with a sneer.

'Oh, I vow and protest-if you put it that way,' the weakling answered, once more extending his hand, the fingers of which closed lovingly round the bottle, 'I cannot refuse. Positively I cannot.'

'Fifty thousand pounds!' said the tutor, shrugging his shoulders.

Lord Almeric drew back his hand.

'Why, she'll like you the better!' Pomeroy cried fiercely, as he thrust the bottle back again. D'you think a woman doesn't love an easy husband? And wouldn't rather have a good fellow than a thread-paper?'

'Mr. Pomeroy! Mr. Pomeroy!' the tutor said. Such words used of a lord shocked him.

'A milksop! A thing of curds and whey!'

6

'After marriage, yes,' the tutor muttered, pitching his voice cleverly in Lord Almeric's ear, and winking as he leant towards him. But your lordship has a great stake in't; and to abstain one night—why, sure, my lord, it's a small thing to do for a fine woman and a fortune.'

Hang me! so it is!' Lord Almeric answered. 'You are a good friend to me, Tommy.' And he flung his glass crashing into the fireplace. 'No, Pom; you'd bubble me. You want the pretty charmer yourself. But I'll be hanged if you shall have her. I'll walk, my boy, I'll walk, and at six I'll go to her, and take you too. And mind you, no tricks, Pom. Lord! I know women as well as I know my own head in the glass. You don't bite me.'

Pomeroy, with a face like thunder, did not answer; and Lord Almeric, walking a little unsteadily, went to the door, and a

moment later became visible through one of the mullioned windows. He stood awhile, his back towards them, now sniffing the evening air, and now, with due regard to his mixed silk coat, taking a pinch of snuff.

Mr. Thomasson, his heart beating, wished he had had the courage to go with him. But this would have been to break with his host beyond mending; and it was now too late. He was still seeking a propitiatory phrase with which to break the oppressive silence, when Pomeroy anticipated him.

'You think yourself vastly clever, Mr. Tutor,' he growled, his voice hoarse with anger. You think a bird in the hand is worth

two in the bush, I see.'

'Ten in the bush,' said Mr. Thomasson, affecting an easiness he did not feel. Ten fives are fifty.'

"

" Two in the bush I said, and two in the bush I mean,' the other retorted, his voice still low. 'Take it or leave it,' he continued, with a muttered oath and a swift side glance at the windows, through which Lord Almeric was still visible, walking slowly to and fro, and often standing. If you want it firm, I'll put it in black and white. Ten thousand, or security, the day after we come from church.'

·

"

The tutor was silent a moment. Then, 'It is too far in the bush,' he answered in a low voice. I am willing enough to serve you, Mr. Pomeroy. I assure you, my dear sir, I desire nothing better. But if-if his lordship were dismissed, you'd be as far off as ever. And I should lose my bird in hand.'

'She took him. Why should she not take me?' 'He has no offence-a title, Mr. Pomeroy.'

'And is a fool.'

Mr. Thomasson raised his hands in deprecation. Such a saying, spoken of a lord, really offended him. But his words went to another point. Besides, it's a marriage-brocage contract, and void,' he muttered.

"

6

grimly. Nor who the gentleman was. But I've ways of my own. You can leave that to me.'

But Mr. Thomasson, who had only parleyed out of compliance, took fright at that, and rose from the table, shaking his head.

'You won't do it?' said Mr. Pomeroy.

The tutor shook his head again, with a sickly smile. "'Tis too far in the bush,' he said.

'Ten thousand,' Mr. Pomeroy persisted, his eyes on the other's face. 'Man,' he continued, forcibly, 'do you think you will ever have such a chance again? Ten thousand! Why, 'tis eight hundred a year. "Tis a gentleman's fortune.'

For a moment Mr. Thomasson did waver. temptation from him, and shook his head. me, Mr. Pomeroy,' he said. I cannot do it.'

6

'Will not!' Pomeroy cried harshly. Will not!' And would have said more, but at that moment Jarvey entered behind him. 'Please, your honour,' the man said, 'the lady would see my

lord.'

6

'Oh!' said Pomeroy, coarsely, she is impatient, is she? Devil take her for me! And him too!' And he sat sulkily in his place.

Then he put the

"

You must pardon

But the interruption suited Mr. Thomasson perfectly. He went to the outer door, and, opening it, called Lord Almeric, who, hearing what was afoot, hurried in.

'Sent for me!' he cried, in a rapture, pressing his hat to his. breast. 'Dear creature!' And he kissed his fingers to the gallery. 'Positively she is the kindest, sweetest morsel! The most amiable charmer ever wore a petticoat! I vow and protest I am in love with her! It were brutal not to be, and she so fond! I'll to her at once! Tell her I fly! I stay for a dash of bergamot, and I am with her!'

'I thought that you were going to take us with you,' said Mr. Pomeroy, watching him sourly.

6

'I will! 'Pon honour, I will!' replied the delighted beau. But she will soon find a way to dismiss you, the cunning baggage! and then, "Sweet is pleasure after pain." Ha! ha! I have it aright this time. Sweet is Plea-oh! the doting little rascal! But let us to her! I vow, if she is not civil to you, I'll-I'll be cold to her!'

(To be continued.)