"Then you must explain why he does it
here," said Sir Charles, laughing.

"She means it as a compliment to us,
papa," said the heiress, with a certain spite
which the presence of her guests did not
restrain.

A rough and impatient voice broke in.
"This is too good. After all, how does
this concern any one but the real owners?
I tell you what I would do, Sir Charles.
Fix a day, invite all these wretched
bumpkins who dare to presume on your
indulgence, and in their presence set men
to work to pull the whole thing to pieces.
When the last rod was flung into the river,
I would turn round and say, ' There, get
away, you ragamuffins—let me catch one
of you trespassing and I'll set the dogs
at you.' Forsooth, a young lady can't
have her flowers without having all the
roughs going to steal them too."

"Hallo! Dudley, this is strong
language."

"That is the only strength about it,"
said Jessica, with a quivering lip. " Such
doctrines make the real barrier between
rich and poor."

"Oh, we know Dudley is a violent
partisan of Laura's, and it distorts his
views."

"Ah, that explains it," said Conway,
contemptuously; " but in presence of one
who reads the common heart, like Miss
Bailey, what can one do? I hold no opinions
at all. I give them up. You must not let
them touch the bridge, Sir Charles; rather
build them a dozen new ones."

Again, the look Jessica gave him,
translated, seemed to say, " How poor, how
unworthy of you."

For the rest of that " state" meal, he
found himself looking over at her with a
strange attraction, and even trouble. A
surprising girl, he thought. The pleasant
dinner, with all its courses, rolled on like a
stately procession. Then the ladies rose,
suffering that polite writ of ejectment
which our civilisation exacts. The gentlemen
going through a well-acted farce of
resignation at the stern edict they
themselves enforce, resumed their drinking, that
"circulation of the blood" discovered by
some benefactor, we know not who.

In that council the great bridge question
came up in a different shape. " You
know," said the host, confidentially, "one
is awkwardly placed with the people; but
still it is my girl's whim. She has taken
it into her head. But otherwise I really
go with your daughter, doctor. I'd have
given anything if she had opened out
on you, Conway; for when she takes a
thing up with spirit, you would find it
hard to hold your own against her. She
astonishes me sometimes."

The doctor did not seem to enjoy these
compliments. " Oh, she talks too much. I
tell her she had better leave these things to
the men. It's quite absurd. You have a
perfect right to keep your grounds to yourself.
A pretty state of things if every one was to
be overrun by the scum of the town."

There was present a bluff, good-natured
doctor named Hobson, clever in his
profession, who was half friend of the family,
half a sort of watchful medical guardian
over the health of the young heiress. He
was always " running down" once or twice
in the week to pay them a visit, and the
fiction was carried out that it was to see
his old friend Sir Charles. Looking at Dr.
Bailey with some distrust, he said: " Scum,
Dr. Bailey? — the honest mechanics we see
in the grounds behaving like ladies and
gentlemen?"

"Relatively, sir, of course," said the
doctor, blowing hard. " My meaning is
very intelligible. And you see my friend
Conway quite agrees with me." This was
a favourite shape of the doctor's logic.

"Pardon me," said Conway, impatiently.
"We were not discussing the matter
seriously. I must own that I was only trying to
provoke Miss Jessica into an argument that
we might admire her cleverness and spirit.
It is absurd making the thing too serious."

Now Ready, price 5s. 6d., bound in green cloth,
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MR. CHARLES DICKENS'S FINAL READINGS.

MESSRS. CHAPPELL AND CO. have great pleasure
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his interrupted series of FAREWELL READINGS
at St. James's Hall, London. The last Reading will be
given on Tuesday, March 15, and none will take place
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On Tuesday, February 1, MR. DICKENS will read
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