he thought. "Very, very clumsily done,
Master Dudley."

The dinner was on the usual grand
Pantonian scale, many powdered heads nodding
over the guests, Mrs. Silvertop later giving
details to select friends, not without
contempt for those who could show interest in
such things, but which was overpowered by
a pride and complacency in her office. She
had before officiated at some great nobleman's
house, and when the name of any
famous peer was mentioned, it was always
with a "many's the time I've 'anded him a
cup of tea at Highbury 'Ouse," an attention
probable enough, but based more on
conjecture than on recollection.

The Panton plate was all out, the columns
and pediments with which the table was
covered making it seem like a fashionable
graveyard, rather over-crowded with silver
monuments, new and not ancestral; while
the dining- table, fringed with its two rows
of happy feasting men and women, had the
usual festive and magnificent effects
produced by gold and silver, soft lights and
flowers. The pleasant chatter of voices rose
above the clink of silver and steel upon
china. Doctor Bailey's was heard loudest
and noisiest of all.

"Quite proper, Sir Charles. Of course
you have the right. Monstrous! What a
man gives he can take away."

All looked at Jessica.

"Surely not, papa, if it be only what you
ought to give. I know what you are speaking
of—the people's bridge."

"Oh, that is only some of those childish
refinements you are so fond of—I can't go
into them. Sir Charles can't do what he
pleases with his own bridge, as he can with
his own horse: sell, lend, give, or take
away. Absurd!" It became a regular little
discussion for the table.

"I declare," said Sir Charles, good-
humouredly, " I would sooner have an
election on my hands. The two young ladies
battle the thing out like candidates, and I
must say both have a great deal to say worth
listening to. Miss Bailey really champions
the people's rights with great spirit."

Jessica, colouring, spoke out. " Some
think this a trifle, whilst I take it up with
an enthusiasm that may seem foolish. I
know what concerns the lower classes—
canaille they are called — their amusements,
sorrows, seems Quixotic in these times.
Besides," she added, smiling, " who
introduced my clients here at this inappropriate
place? It was not I who did so."

"But you take up the cause of these low
people in everything," said the heiress,
excitedly. " Your sympathy is with them in
all their ways and manners. Why should
you not be on their side in this?"

Jessica, naturally of a retiring disposition,
became like so many of her sex when the
crisis demanded, bold, and brave, and
aggressive. " Then it is an open question?
Now we can deal with it as quite public.
Well, I am on the side of the poor and
their cheap pleasures."

"That we should give them money and
charities is all of course for each conscience,
as the doctor will tell us at church next
Sunday," said Sir Charles. " I declare,
Doctor Bailey, the next time we have
' exhausted funds' of any sort, we shall pass
you over."

"Yes," said the heiress, pertly, "Miss
Bailey would give us a sermon. And I
can see Mr. Conway thinks so too. He is
much amused, I see."

Conway was listening with some
entertainment to this little skirmish.

"Ah, yes, let us hear Conway," said her
father; " he is a judge of these things, and
I will be guided by his authority."

"Surely," said Jessica, scornfully, "there
is no need of authority or of judicial
decision in such a matter. These little poor
privileges of walking on grass, and looking
at and smelling flowers, of breathing fresh
air and sitting on a bank and looking at the
bright river winding by surely none of
us would take credit for making such
presents as these. We need appeal to no one
to tell us that .'"

Conway's arbitration being thus
disparaged, though indirectly, it was necessary
he should say something. This, he did
with ever so little of a wounded tone.

"But still these common blessings involve
somehow the rights of property. Perhaps
we might share our houses also as well as
our grounds. Shelter in the drawing-room
would cost nothing! The smooth green
carpet, the looking at oneself in the mirrors,
is a cheap blessing also."

"Ah! That's the way to put it, as Mr.
Conway does," the doctor said
obstreperously. "Jessica, child, leave political
economy and that sort of thing alone. It's
not in keeping, you know I say, not at
all. What have you to do with the poor
and that sort of thing?"

Her answer was a look at Conway, one
of surprise and full of scorn. " When we
have gone up-stairs, and Mr. Conway is
discussing this with the gentlemen, that
will not be his argument, I know. Or if
he were in the House of Commons he would
not urge such sophistical reasoning."