A. CONFIDENTIAL AGENT:

JAMES -PAY-N, AUTHOR OK "Br Proxy," "Undisr One Roof," ""Wai/tee's Word," "High Spirits," Etc.

CHAPTER Xiri.

CEDAR VILLA. IN these gross, material, days, it is the fashion to say, and perhaps to believe, that self interest is at the bottom of everything; but if so it is. in many ease.", so far down that there is no seeing where it lies ; and it is certain that there are other factors, at least equally powerful, which affect {our social relations with one another. With respect to Matthew Helston and his em ployer, for example, it was a curious fact that their common dislike to Lady Pnrgiter drew them nearer together than their com mon interests had ever been able to do. Her ladyship had not returned to Mr Sig net's establishment as he had predicted, and that failure in prophecy as well as of justice (since he had consequently been unable to " pay her out :> for her insolence in the manner proposed) had greatly em bittered that gentleman against her ; while bis own occasional though infrequent er rands to Moor-street kept Matthew's wrath (juitt) suflicionlly warm. They wore more hateful to him than ever, since his wife'1! condition was becoming a greater source of anxiety to him, and ho was the more loath to leave her at such untimely hours. What, on the other baud, tended to sot Matthew against the jeweller was the lattcr's obvi ous desire to establish himself on a footing of some intimacy in Cavendish Grove. Uncle Stephen's arguments had succeeded, to some extent in setting at rest his ne phew's suspicions of Mr Signet's motives in presenting the agato ring; but he could not understand "wliv the man should bo always calling at No "."

This ,was a little unreasonable, since " the man " had only Pcalled twice ; onco in order lo leave his card after dining there niidjonco to loavo.'a bouquet for Mrs lielston. The supposition, it was true, in the latter case, was that (lie bouquet had been meant for Amy, anil that since that young lady was from homo—being engascd as usual in he professional duties—he had been com pelled to present it to her sister. Then on the top of that had eoino an in vitation to the wholo family to spend "a long day " at his villa on the Thames. The season for such enjoyments was al most over, but a few days of that " Indian summer" which occasionally visits our shores happened to be with us, and Mr Signet had expressed a very cordial hope that his friends iv Cavendish Grove would take advantage ot it. The proposal was submitted to some discussion among the little party, and was strongly opposed by Matthew ; but on the whole they were in favour of accepting the invitation, Amy, indeed, had suggested that she (should stop at home, a plan much approved of by her brother-in-law ; but on vie other hand, in the present state of Salicy'a health, she was unwilling that her sister should be deprived of her society, while Undo Ste phen, in his humorous way, had pro nounced such a do#icn as out of the ques tion. "I have heard of Hamlet being performed without the Prince," ho said, " but without Ophelia never. A pretty sort of reception we should get at Mr Sitrnet's if we came without you !" Mr Barlow, too, who had received the news of that proscut of the ring with much good humour, and a complete indifference to the motives of the giver, arising from his own sense of security, strongly advocated the acceptance by the whole party of Mr Signet's oiler. "It Avill he a very pleasant experience, and the little outing will do your sister good, Amy," was what be had said to his beloved object, and his words, of course, had had weight with her. Hie had never herself thought Mr Signet had " meaut anything," and somewhat resented the view her people had taken of his at tentions ; and perhaps she expected that her host's behaviour on this occasion would show their suspicions to be baseless There was not a grain of coquetry in her disposi tion ; she did not use any arguments, even to herself, as some of her sex would 'have done, respecting this man " old enough to be her father," and the bare idea of whoso making love to her would be a joke : she would not have thought it a joke had she credited it at all, and she put down what had happened to the honest desire of Mr Signet to make himself pleasant to the family, and to his ignorance of how to set about it. I "am afraid that, on the contrary, the whole1 affair tickled Uncle Stephen's sense of humour vastly. Of all Mr Signet's guests, he would have been the ono who looked forward to getting most entertain ment ont of the expedition, had not a cir cumstance occurred at the very outset of it which caused a change of views, or, in other words, " put his back up." A mes senger arrived at No 7 from Mr Signet a few hours before they.were to start, offer ing the use of his carriage, "which might be more convenient for the la'lics."

However well-moant this oiler might be, Mr Durham felt it to be "an overt act" of patronage on the part of their host, or, as he more curtly expressed it. " just like his infernal impudence." Mr Durham hadbc spoken a wacrgonotte for the excursion, which would accommodate them very well. and ho wrote back to 'say so; he thanked Mr Signet for his consideration, but the time was too short to alter their arrange ments. But the mischief had been done, The old recluse had been put in that an tagonistic frame of mind with respect to their host of which on the former occasion Amy had been apprehensive. ;Ho said to himself, " This fellow would have sent his carriage for Amy, in order that she may know, by experience, how nice it would be to have one at her own disposal;" but in reality he was annoyed upon his own account. It may seem strange that Mr Signet, who had so much amour propre himself, did not recognise the danger of wounding it in the case of other people; but unhappily his case is not exceptional. And of course he suffered for it.

Cedar Villa, so called from a splendid specimen of that tree which overshadowed half the lawn, was really a charming resi dence in the summer months; in winter, of course, like all other river-side houses, it was damp and dreary; but', with the sun on it, lighting ap the cheerful rooms with their open French windows, and reflecting the glitter of the stream that flowed be neath them, it was bright and pleasant enough. The furniture was a little showy, perhaps, and the walls and ceilings had a somewhat too liberal allowance of gilt on them, but there was really nothing to justify Mr Durham's reflection that the villa looked like a branch establishment of the house in Paulet-strcer.

The ladies praised it honestly and with out stint, to the branch proprietor's great content.

" Yes," said he, " for a mere tradesman, like myself, it is a nice place enough—one is almost tempted, from the possession of

it, to imagine oneself a person of import ance." • If Mr. Signet expected, anyone to observe on this that he was a p-rson of importance, he was doomed to be disappointed. "After all," ho continued, with that eagerness which, with some folks, generally follows a remark that has fallen flat—just as the marksman who has once missed the target is lialdo to be "wild" as well as " wide"—" everything depends upon how one chooses to look at it."

" True," said Mr. Durham drily ; " that was what caused the great lord in Spain always to eat cherries with his spectablcs on ; he protested it made them bigger and more nourishing." "That reminds me," observed the host, "that there is a little fruit in the summer house, if you would like to partake of it." '' Oh, how nice ! " exclaimed Sabey, olasping her hands. " I have not been in a summer house since we left dear old Tarl ton."

The bower she was thinking of was a rather sombre, tumble-down affair, lined with fir-cones and nuns? with cobwebs, in the walled garden at the Rectory, in the ovening much in the occupation of bats ; but besides the cobwebs, it had certain tender memories clinging to it of girlhood and careless hours that endeared ,it to her simple nature. It was, therefore, rather a disappointment to her than otherwise that the summer-house at Cedar Villa was of quite another kind; a spick-and-span erec tion ot coloured glass, with a marble table, on which, instead of the tea and cake eaten for a treat on half-holidays, there were grapes and pineapples—the products, as their host explained, of his own green housrs. "But I am sorry to say," he added, with a smile, "do cheaper upon that account.1' Before them stretched a long broad wood on terrace, called a camp-shed, and beneath them a (light of steps ran down to the river, from which the silver splash of oars and pleasant laughter of the passengers on that 'miscalled "silent highway" was borne to them by obedient breezes that, having done their mission, seemed to faint and die. "This is very pretty," observed Mr. Durham, frankly. " It is a perfect Paradise," sighed Amy, enchanted by the brilliant river scene, so different from the sluggish Lat. " It is a Paradise that can very seldom boast of such Peris as honour it to-duy," said Mr. Signet gallantly. "A few bachelor friends come down here occa sionally and dolilo the place with smoke— otherwise I live a hermit's life." " But not on hermit's fare," laughed Sabcy.

"On little better, I do assure you, madam. However, I hope my cook will presently make an effort for an occasion so extraordinary. After all, there is nothing like nature : she cannot be imitated." Mr. Durham, tickled with a recollection of how iridescence in false stones was pro duced by fluoric acid began to laugh. " What are you laughing at, Uncle Stephen?" inquired Sabev. "Did I laugh? I was thinking of what Mr. Signet says about imitating nature : it is quite tree. The German Casper tells us that the pistol so often put into the hand of a murdered man to simulate suicide is trouble throwivaway : iv genuine cases it is always found spasmodically grasped," " My dear Mr. Durham, how can you talk of such things? cried Amy reproach fully. "it was doubtless suggested by the senso of contrast," he answered, "Everything here speaks of life and light. The human mind resents impressions too forcibly pro seated to it, and flies to their contraries.'^ "I suppose that is why, while sitting in this palatial spot, my mind is reverting to the aibour ntTarlton," said Sabey, smiling. ■' Yon remember the old arbour, as we used to call it, Matt ?" "Can I ever forgot it, darling ?" said Matthew tenderly;—" though I think it rather hard upon die old place to bring it into such comparison." " It's a queer thing is memory, "observed Mr. Signet, with a philosophic air. '' There is no such thing as forgetting." "Duvergicr tells us a strange thing in physical exemlification of that," remarked Uncle Stephen. "Ho states that when the brand-mark of a galley-slave has vanished through lapse of years, it may be recalled to sigld by slapping the neighbourhood of the spot with the flat of tho hand till it reddens ; when tho brantt-inark, which cannot redden, at once becomes visible by its whiteness. The mere materials of which our human house is made are much less perishable than is generally supposed, our bones aro recognisable for many gen erations after they havo been laid in the grave. Those of King Dagobert, when dug up in the church of St. Deuis, were found well-preserved after four hundred years. Hubler avers that he procured gelatine from tho bones of a mummy two'thousand years old; and Orfila confirms this, inasmuch as he got twenty-seven per cent, of it by boil ing some six hundred years old." "Curious, but not festive," observed Mr isigrict, making a wry face. ■' No, indeed," said Amy. '' I thinK you may well be pardoned for not appreciating Mr Durham's tusto for the grotesque ana terrible," "That is ungratoful, for I don't know anyone who enjoys a shocking story as much as you, Amy," said Uncle Stephen, reproachfully. Mr Signet looked at her with astonished but admiring eyes, and was silent. Perhaps he was searching his mind for a shocking story with which to regale her ears. If so, it was fortunate that, before he found it, an even pulse of oars was heard to beat, and a galley with four towers shot up to the bottom stop of tho river flight. ■ It had cushions ai ranged for five persons in the stern, above which was a striped canopy, to shield its tenants from the sun.

" Though, you wouldn't come in my carriaac, I venture to fcnpc you will patron ise my qic," said Mr Signet, pointing to the gallant galley. "A row on the water before dinner is much recommcuded by the faculty." There was a mixture of simplicity and cunning, of pomposity and feeble drollery, of melancholy result and good intention, in all that Mr Signet did and said that day which would have ensured au interest in him in any student of human nature. It has been said that whoever has an honest wish to make himself agreeable to his fellow - creatures must needs succeed—a consoling theory, which, however, even if it weie true, would by no means make everybody pleasant. But I fear it'•smacks of optimism.

Mr Signet was much too wise to take an oar; he had a conviction—which it is a pity is not more general—tbat the spec tacle of a gentleman in his shirt-sleeves, verging on corpulence, and more than middle-aged, toiling at the oar is not an agreeable one. To sit and steer, on the contrary, if you make no spasmodic at tempt to adapt yourself to the motion of the boat, is a situation of dignity. On his right was Sabey, on his left was Amy, and his conversation was divided between them —though not, it must be confessed, in equal proportions. To the latter he made remarks in alow voice upon the beauties of the scenery, and consulted her wishes as to their course. At her instigation he landed the party on a wooded island,

which they explored. , "The islands in these parts," he said, " are called eyots, which I don't think you can spell, Miss Thurlow."

When she answered this challenge, and correctly, he expressed his wonder. "You forget," she said, "that it is my calling to teach young folks to spell." "To be pure," he replied tenderly, and sighed. By the sigh he meant her to understand that so much beauty and in telligence was utterly thrown away on such a career; and by the tenderneßS of his tone he implied that there was one, if she only knew it, who had both the will and the power to emancipate her from it. For the first time, Amy began to think that her people were right in their ridicu lous suspicions of Mr Sipnet; and she pitied him a little, though the pity was by no means of the sort which is akin to love. Once more afloat, he steered into a bed of water-lilies, and invited htr to gather some.

"They are the prettiest ornaments for the dinner-table you can imagine,", he said ; " and we need no gardeners for them hereabouts."

This was clever of him, for he was thinking of quite another sort of ornament. He knew she would have to take off her glove to pluck them, and be wished to see whether she wore his agate ring or not. As it happened, she had put it on that morn ing—not without some doubt - out of com pliment to him, and his beady eyes shone brighter than ever at they fell upon it. It was impossible now for her to doubt that, after that, his attentions to her became very marked. She became rather miserable in consequence, and her serious' face and manner encouraged his hopes. He had had the sagacity to supply his two male gueists with very large and excellent cigars, and, under cover of their smoke-Kir, rather, of the drowsiness inspired by the divine weed —he carried on his advances without exciting their notice, But Sabey, of course, saw everything, and trembled lest Matthew should also see. It is strange, but true, that a man may make love to a woman without her knowing it; but not in the presence of another woman without her knowing it; in this case, however, and by this time, they both knew it, and grevi ously repented that they had ever come to Cedar Villa.

After they had had their water-lounge— which, we may be sure, included a visit to a lock, in tbe cool delicious depth of which the sisters sang a song together, which Mr Signet christened " the Duet of the Sirens" - they went into dinner. This was really an Apician meal, though not, ■as Uncle Stephen had wickedly anticipated, served on gold plate hall-marked. The centre of the table was a looking-glass, on which fresh water-lilies were disposed, as though lying on their native element. "We have to thank you for these, Miss Thurlow," said the host smiling—which, as there were about fifty lilies, and she had gathered, perhaps, half-a-dozen, was a gal lantry indulged in somewhat at the ex .penso of truth. The ladies were not very talkative, having thoughts of their own as to the consequences of a certain disap pointment that even modest Amy was now convinced was about to befall her too tender host; but Matthew, deriving satisfaction from the reflection that this day of pleasure was nearly over, made several conversation al efforts, while Mr Durham, whose weakness was good cheer, became quite eloquent under its influence.

Apropos of the dainties set before him, lie told of that famous epicure of the last century who had plovera' eggs brought from St IVlalo by special messengers, paid fifty guineas for two dishes. :and, on the whole, contrived to spend £150,000 upon Ids palate. Tim reminiscence was not only a sort of compliment to the host, but delighted him,' because it dealt with targe sums of money. "The geiitleman," he observed -'must have had an enormous income"

"He would have had a very good one," remarked Uncle Stephen, "only he lived upon his principal. His appreciation nf what was good, ho\yever, remained to the last—as the moralists tell us it always should do. In the end ho was ruined. A friend of mine once gave him a guinea to keep him from starving, and two hours afterwards found him dressing an ortolan with his own hands. Eventually., when he had nothing to eat hut the commonest things, he put an end to his existence. " " Bless my soul!'' exclaimed Mr Signet, wiping his forehead; for Mr Durham's storios, culled as they were from all sorts of far-hack experiences of old-world read ing, were somewhat too strong meat for him.

Half in reparation, perhaps, or from a feoling of gratitude for having so nobly dined, Uncle Stephen, striking a more sym pathetic chord, regaled his host with Phny's description of turquoise-hunting in Carmania, where the stone protrudes from the surface of the precipitous rocks like a a blue eye, and is struck off with slings and stones, just as boys in England'knock down walnuts from the tree.

Mr Signet's admiration for this game (of which ho had never heard) was expressed without stint; but when Ids omniscient guest began to quote Theophrastus in con nection with the fecundity of the diamond, he grew even more excited. That precio js stones were technically called "male" and ' "female," inconsequence of certain varia tions in their brilliancy, he was, of course, aware; but that they were self-producing was news to him, and seemed to open a vista. It was true that Mr Signet, in "common with other' £tnd wiser, folks, was not al ways quite certain when Mr Durham was in jest or ciimost, hut he had great confi dence in his learniug. and his own opinion of human nature was too high to permit him to suppose that any man of parts and principle would speak jocosely of diamonds —whether in an interesting condition or not.

On the whole, and notwithstanding that matters promised so ill at starting, Mr Durham increased the favourable impres sion he had already made upon Mr Signet. All his guests indeed would have left that gentleman in a state of much content and satisfaction, Isut for a word dropped by Matthew while the ladies were gone to put their cloaks and bonnets on, in readiness for the drive home, and Uncle Stephen was struggling into bis great-coat in the hall. It was in answer to a somewhat pressing invitation from his host that the whole party should repeat their visit on the Saturday—that day week —if the fine weather should still hold.

" I ainsbrry to say that it is impossible," said Matthew, " for we have a long-stand ing invitation to dine at the Crystal Palace with Mr Barlow on that day."

"Pooh ! put Mm off, and come to me," replied Mr Signet with some impatience. " Any day will do for the Crystal Palace," " Yes, but any day won't do for Mr Bar low," said Matthew, smiling; "he is a very busy man.1 "And who is Mr Barlow," inquired Mr Signet, in a tone that seemed to add "no sjjch individual should be permitted to interfere with any plans of mine." "He is a young lawyer, to whom my sister-in-law, Amy, is engaged to be mar ried."

" Indeed 1" said Mr Signet, iv a manner very, creditable to his self-control. " That

is very unexpected news to me, Mr Hel ston."

"Hullo! what has happened?" inquired Uncle Stephen, entering the room equipped for travel, and perceiving the gravity that sat upon the brow of his host. ."It is nothing," said Matthew; "only Mr Signet is disappointed that we cannot repeat our pleasant visit to him next Satur day." " It is very unexpected," said Mr Signet, mechanically. I " My dear sir, everything is unexpected," said Uncle Stephen, who always became more philosophic, and, if possible, more full of anecdote, after dinner. " I remember a very striking instance of that which Southey telt.. A murderer is made to touch his victim's face : no b'ood follows, or miracle, as was looked for, occurs to criminate him; hut, being left alone with the body, the dead man lifts up his head and looks at him, which compels his confession." For a few moments Mr Signet's face had turned to such a livid paleness that he might have been almost the subject (i.e. the dead one) of this story himself; but his colour soon returned, and it was in bia usual confident tone that he replied, "I agree with you, Mr Durham : things often turn out quite differently from what is ex pected. Well, if not Saturday, then I hope some other day may be found suitable, Mr Helston."

Matthew had never felt so kindly towards his employer as at that moment. He felt that his news had been a great disappoint ment to him (however ridiculous might have been his aspirations), and he had home it like a man. He did not understand that his hopes had been dashed ODly for a moment, to revive and assert themselves all the more strongly now that there were obstacles. The very motto of a jeweller is, or should be, "Patience "; and the surviv ing partner of Messrs Star and Signet had had muSh too long an experience of the advantage of that policy to have taken a first refusal as final, even had it come from the lips of the principal—namely, Miss Amy Thurlow herself—in place of those of her brother-in-law.

CHAPTER XIV.

AT THE "RISINO'SUK."

Among the many industries that languish, during the winter months—though, like the sleep of the dormouse, without .suggest ing any great public catastrophe even in tbe case it should never revive again—is that of the Turf tout. When the season of " trials " is over, no longer does he lie con cealed in the blooming gorse, apprehensive of the horsewhip, or note-book in hand, listen to the "seven-stun jock" as he in discreetly prattles of how the Sister to Cunigonda took her." gallop " that morning '' in her clothes;" he leaves the thymy down, the springing turf, the cora of the very earliest lark, the breezy call of incense breatbing morn, and becomes—it is the nearest approach, perhaps, to his romantic summer life of which circumstances permit —the deputy waterman to a London cab stand. In most cases such as that of Dick Dartmoor, the neighbouring public-house affords him some supplementary income; he is its commissionaire, or odd man, and ready for any office of general' utility, whether it be to summon soft mueic in the person of a band of nigger minstrels, or to expel by force of arms (and legs) any guest who has taken more than is good for Min or rather, for the good of the house. Besides the^e two appointments, Dick Dartmoor had a vested interest in the fashionable arrivals and departure^ in the neighbourhood; whenever a cab, as often happened, was sent for from Hybla Mews, he would accompany it to the residence oi the hirer in a sort of ex-officio capacity, and insist upon being employed to carry down luggage to the vehicle, at a sliding tariff of. charges which varied, according to the determination of character of the involun tary employer, from sixpence a parcel to a pint of ale in all. There had been a time in Dick's hot youth wheD, in the late autumn, he would hang on the outskirts of the London railway stations, and, fixing his eye upon some oab laden with Paterfamilias' luggage from the seaside, would gird.up his loins and run it down to its destination, on the chance of being paid for assisting to unload it. Of course like marriage, it was a mere lottery, but with more excitement and even desperation about it; for to thread crowded streets, as well as cross them, at six miles an hour, with the g*ze fixed upon a quick-going "four-wheel," is. trying to the nerves. The prize, of course, was a short journey and lavish payment. The blanks (which were more numerous) were excursions to the extreme suburbs, and an observation from Patefamilias at the end of them to the effect that he wanted no extraneous assistance, or even an irritable reference to the nearest policeman;, But these delights had long ceased for Dick : Ms breath, was far too snort for such expeditions; and Ms lost strength had but a poor substitute in the subtlety that enabled him to select all the lighter pack ages and to leave the trunks and boxes to the more Atlantean shoulders of the cabman: Indeed, in the secret history of this poor fellow there was a [blank* or interregnum, of at least two years, -which he had spent in much harder labourl than has been described, in consequence of his having taken an article straight from a cab to a pawnbroker's, and disposed of it for what it would fetch. Far be it from me to say that Dick's morale had been injured by this experience; I would not for any money make a reflection so injurious-upon the society and discipline' of Her Majesty's prisons as that suggestion would imply; but it had done Dick no good. He came out of gaol—just as many more people come out of church—neither the better nor the worse for it; but it had introduced him to some queer companions, the existence of whom was unknown to tho proprietor of the "Rising Sun," or he would, perhaps, have trusced Dick even less than he did— which was not much farther than the public bar of the establishment. •'■■■■

For the most part. Dick stood outside its swinging doors, like the Peri at the gate of Paradise, looking very dry and wistful, and with a straw in his mouth. But all of a sudden there came a change fr>t the better in Dick that surprised everybody, and mo-t astounded those who knew him best. He appeared one morning in November at the " Rising Sun " without his haybands, and inacomplete suit of second-ha-d clothes. To say that the neighbourhood of Hybla Mews was "thrown into a state of intense excitement" (as it would have been over a mere murder) is much to underrate the effect of this phenomenon. Ingenuity was taxed to the uttermost to account for it. The landlord, who was a wit—and suffered for it in slenderness of custom—declared that Dick's aunt must have died, and left him a million of money. The idea of such a sum in connection with Mr Dartmoor was humorous enough, but nothing in compari son with the suggestion of haviosr possessed a female relative; he had notoriously never had a mother—a father, of course, was out of the question—and much less an aunt ; nor could the Heralds' College itself have traced a relationship for him with any member of the human family. He was as much a waif and stray, poor wretch, as the straw in his own mouth. Another, but scarcely a wilder theory was that Dick had drawn a prize in the great Hamburg

Lottery (of which a prospectus had once i been dropped in the bar-room), and was 1 the proprietor of a castle on the Rhine 1 with its fendal rights;, while a third and H the most popular, solution of the problem m was that he had lamed some "public I favourite " in his stable at a crisis, andhad l>een munificently rewarded for thatservice M by a grateful employer. To all these suggestions, which wets made with v much frankness iin > Dick's presence, he only returned a cunning .look and a wink of his left eye. His eyes which perhaps had once * been bright S- l enough, had now the appearance of havimr been boiled, whereas the rest of his couii-. tenance bore obvious traces of the oven. 'ItW had been baked just as the faces of ladies of fashion are said to be during the opera tion of enamel; only in Dick's case it wasSt! of course, by some process of nature andffljH not of art, and certainly with no view to1 '> being made " beautiful for .ever.'5 Die. had been always plain, not to say repiil'. sive, to look at, but in his second-ham! clothes he_ loolced infinitely worse than ever. So incongruoxis was their effect that the youngest policeman in the force vrouldfH have said "he has stole'em, :1 while the student of human nature would not have hesitated to add, " after having murderedifl under circumstances of peculiar/atrocits4tf§ their original proprietor." . » t >Ks| Perhaps it was that the inhabitants of \ Hybla Mews were neither students of human nature nor policemen, or it possibly may have been because Mr Dartmoor had not only clothes but money in the pockcU'*^ of them, that the opinions of his neighbours were much more charitable. Some of them H eren began to remember that they hid •';''& always thought there was something gter^i&S lmg about Dick (which there never had ' been in any sense), and had prophesied his" rise in the world. To do Mr John Euther ford justice, he was not among thos* blind admirers of success, but, on tbe other hand : he accepted its results so far. as to drink with Mr Dartmoor whenever that gentle man asked him so to do, and theae mvita. tions had of late become frequent Mrs Rutherford/observed with' alarm these visits of her husband to the "Rising Sun," and she distrusted his . new-found host even more than she disliked hia' '1 hospitalities; but in trivial matters, such as beer and purl—which is gin and' beier— "honest John" took his own way and disregarded counsel. One evening in November, Mr Richard Dartmoor pushed his liberality to theveree of profuseness by. inviting Air Eufterford to supper at the "Eisiog g m ,» jk_ '; entertainment was given in the "private '~':M room," an apartment cut off from the bar ' by a wooden partition that leached nearly to the ceiling, and which was reserved for visitors of distinction. Although Join was hifi only guest, the repast was not only plentiful, but magnificent. l!here >waa *;; " soup, in the form of tripe ; ; calves' liver by." * way of entree, and for thepiwederem' ance a bullock's heart. His of what lie was wont-genetically to des cribe as "innerds," and Dick had con suited his taste. '*' Sweets " were ratlker .■.l' disregarded by the Jiabitues of the estab lishment, but its e/ie/had a way of stewing - ' whelks that was considered perfection, ana on this occasion he outdid himself. After the whelks, the happy pair applied them- ' selves to whisky, tobacco, and conversa tion upon the topics of the day. After an exhaustive discourse upon the merits of Artemis, the question arose as to what sum her "stable" was likely to net by - her if she should "pull off" the groat. stake; and from that the talk"naturally. glided to pecuniary matters in general. ■ ■:: , " It's a great thin^, let me tell Mr - Enthcrford," said Dick, stretching out his legs and thrusting his hands into l>ia pock- ' ets -which was nmr a favourite trick with him; it pleased him to find that they didn't come through—"it's a great ihingtobavc a hatful of money." "I have no doubt of it whatever,1' .. ,' answered his companion, expelling a huge column oi smoke and watching it rise to>|Piß the ceiling with much.appaient interest. 11,,."I1,,." "As for myself, Ihave often had the hat but never the shiners!"! "Well, I have,"' returned Dick. Here ho leant forward and added in a mysterious whfsper, " Now, what would you: say ii)l said I had a matter of-r-well, I won't g^iy i how much—to do ds.l like with?" : ..,. '<'.' "If you don't tell me how much, how can I know what to say?" at>swered JoHn, not disputatively, but with the quiet air of a man who feels that logic is on his side. "Anyhow, I'm rich, Rutherford—that is, ■'.' ■;■ 1 as compared with what I was. That's something, ain't it? Now, what do yon "Well," replied John, wishing to. Le polite, and certainly to avoid giving ex^ pression to aDy uncomplimentary surmises on this point, ~'■' I say.itVa rum go." "Yes, it is, Mr Rutherford; and what makes it a still rummer go,is tin's, that I have the power of making things very com fortable for somebody , else—let us say, ~:,,. y yourself, for instance." "Well, you've done it," said John ; wa ving his hand round the apartment iv yrhich the fragrant stuffing of the bullock's heart '■■.■■■ still mingled with the aroma of the whis ky: " you have made me most uncommon comfortable." "Pooh! that's nothing, man, ''returned, the other contemptuously,;" tp.whatleaft - _. do for you, and what I mean to do if you only show a grain of gumption." ' "Ah, that depends," replied John, either ~ from natural modesty, or from the;remem brance that the sagacious Sally had" often denied to him tlie quality alluded'to. ' • "l^o begin wi'E, there's a five-pound ;' i note, my man, which I have been told to hand over to j rdu by one the colour of "'' wh«se money you have seen already;."l ! John took the note—not without some:lt excitement—and held it ups against' the : light of the two candles whioh graced the ; . boa'd. .■■, ■• , '.-■■■'- ~.,,„ V""' ':' -■"■■: "The w;ater-mark seems all right,- be ■ . • said., . ■ ■ ■■": '~..■. ■:•"■ ;, .' . '..:'■. -.: ■• ■.:'■• ■■ '' Of course it's right;, everything is nglit as the Capting does, you may take your . oath ; he's a gentleman, he is, every mcli. Mtseenis so r -"indeed;" said John, as sentingly, after haying-.«pite satisfied him self of the genuinness of the article m ques tion, "And what am Ito do for'this pretty bit of flimsy ?" "' . , " Nothin1," said Dick, triumphantly, and crossing his legs;."it's youm for gooil ana, all; and no questions asked." „ '' Then tell the Captain, with my, love, putting' the note in his pocket, "that 1 shall be happy to do the same work for him on the same terms as long as he lives.' -' •• ; . "Ah, well, it won|t be quite that, returned Dick ; " but it is very little more: . in the way of work, and it will be a very great deal more in the way of wage." 1 "How much ?" inquired the otberv ' A matter of a hundred pounds." . _ ' " That's a • lorjg figure," observed. Mr , Rutherford, blowing not only the smoke but a considerable quantity of the air ot his lungs into space. %■• • ■ . ■', "Yes, and the money down," continued Mr Dartmoor; "none of your promises to ■. pay, nor bills, nor such-like, but twenty notes like that, paid into the palm of your - Mr Rutherford looked at his han3, as _if in some doubt as to whether it was^ajit receptacle for such a sum. "And the - work, Mr Dartmoor ?" said; he after along

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, MARCH 11, 1882.

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