"I propose doing so, certainly," said I. "And Mr. Sniggs will go," said Kate.

"And Mr. Wells," said I, "will perform the service."

"Is there anybody else one could ask?” said Kate, affecting to consider the subject. "Is there nobody we know-that--"

"Nobody that you know, Miss Falwasser," said Harriet, flushing crimson, "except your dancing-master-perhaps you would like him to be one of the mourners."

"What an idea!" said Jane.

"Well," said Kitty, in a tone which left us in doubt whether she felt or did not feel the latent meaning of my uncontrollably indignant wife's observation, "I see nothing so absurd in that. I'm sure he was as fond of Tom as anybody in this house ever was."

I gave Harriet a family look--a preventive glance-something between the entreating and monitory; she returned a significant toss of her

head, and, to my infinite delight, said nothing.

"I am certain," said Kate, "that Mr. Kittington took more pains with brother Tom," and here she cried, "than anybody I ever saw take pains with anybody-poor dear boy, he had not a turn for dancing; but still, I do think, if we may not go out, at least-I'm sure Pappy would like it—I do think Mr. Kittington might follow his dear remains to the grave."

Here Kitty sobbed more vehemently, and here my dear Harriet seemed quite ready-if I may use the expression-to boil over with indignation. Kate's real object, cloaked in the affectation of sorrow, roused all her anger, and I hastened to interpose an observation that, however attentive Mr. Kittington might have been professionally to her brother, and however respectable in himself, he was not included in our circle of friends, whence alone attendants on such occasions were selected.

"Why, doctors go," said Kate; "and they are not friends, only attendants."

"True," said I; "but there is a slight

difference between the services of the doctor and the dancing-master, as regards the deceased, towards the termination of his existence."

"Well, Uncle," said Kate, pertinaciously adhering to her favourite proposition, "of course I have nothing to do with it. I dare say Mrs. Brandyball will write to me to-day, and I shall hear to-morrow; for perhaps she may have some new directions to give about it."

Another glance of my wife's eye followed the announcement of this supposition, which renewed my trepidation lest she should be unable further to conceal her real feelings-for an attempt at hypocrisy with Harriet was really an effort: nor was I much displeased at seeing her make preparations for quitting the room which we had invaded. Thus encouraged, I suggested to the girls that the baby required his mother's care, and that we had better retire.

Whether I should have suspected what was passing in Kate's extremely shallow mind, if I had not been previously made aware of the circumstances which had occurred with regard to

Kittington, I do not presume to guess; but having been so pre-advised, every word, every look, every action of the girl seemed to me connected with the furtherance of the affair, and an anxiety to understand why her tender epistle yet remained unanswered. There was a restlessness about her—a constant going to the windows at the back of the house, which were not closed, and looking out upon the lawn and grounds as if hoping to see the object of her unquestionable affection, who, by no possible chance, could be there; then taking up a book and flirting over the leaves, stopping, perhaps, at a point the subject of which might in any degree be assimilated to what she considered her own circumstances; and then came a fit of absence, during which it appeared to me she was calculating upon the safest and surest means of obtaining an interview with her graceful preceptor.

I was half-inclined, during one of her paroxysms of abstraction, to dissipate the vision at once, and tell her all I knew of the matter. My old pro

pensity for procrastination, however, triumphed, and I resolved to wait a day or two and see what would turn up.

My cogitations on this subject were interrupted by the arrival of Wells, who, under naturally excited feelings, came to open his heart to me and even seek advice about Fanny, which, knowing so much of his pro-matrimonial disposition as I did, I felt it would be difficult to give. The fact appeared to be that the Lieutenant-totally opposed in politics, and, as he had recently discovered, in principle to the Rector, and disappointed in his expectations as to the fortune Fanny was likely to bring him—had gradually retreated in proportion to Wells's advance; and had even used the gaiety and conviviality which Wells had pressed into the service to make his house agreeable to him, as weapons against his moral and clerical character. After the disappointment of his hopes with regard to Miss Maloney's acceptance of him, his return to Blissfold appeared to have been the result of mingled vanity and revenge