office cast upon her, threw her whole gentle
soul into the duty. The ingenuity, the finesse
that a simple woman's affection will
unconsciously devise is inconceivable, and
exceeds any studied or laborious exertion
on the part of more clever people. The
way she painted her sister in her most
delicate colours: the little by-lanes and
short-cuts up which she tripped back to
that one favourite subject, when she seemed
the whole length of the garden away from
it, was something delightful. She did
not see that this advocacy was having
by no means the effect she intended, but
was acting in quite a different way. Her
wonderful face, so marvellous in its changes,
now demure and nun-like, now flashing up
into brilliancy and animation, now almost
sad with sympathy, was telling upon Mr.
Cecil Leader. That young man, who was
reserved and rather dull, had hitherto
kept out of society, like Mr. Marlow in the
play, and he had met no one who had the
sort of engaging, interested, and encouraging
manner of Katey; now preaching the
panegyric of her own particular saint,
Polly. Polly was just opposite, close by,
and made one of their party, as it were.
Such laughter, such tinkling laughter;
such flashing and sparkling of jewelled
eyes, the only jewels they possessed; such
reflection of the light on their glossy massive
hair, as the hero told his rather
laboured and lumbering " good stories."
Never were two such charming girls. But
Polly was more to be admired, Katey to be
loved.

The host occasionally struck in, and
adroitly made his guest the centre figure,
as it were, giving him his arm, and supporting
him. Lord Shipton listened with
obsequious interest, and even the boisterous
Billy Webber took the cue. Strange to
say, Mr. Cecil seemed to know little or nothing
about his own family and their plans,
and he himself seemed to regard the regiment
more as his proper family. He told the
usual stories, while Lord Shipton listened,
smiling, and bowing, and saying, " Most
curious! how strange that was!" and the
Doctor, as it were, led cards to be trumped
specially by his guest. Mr. Webber, once
or twice, grew restive, and burst through
the fences with some irreverent jesting,
and also a tendency to "chaff" the young
man, but was quickly brought back again
by the collar of his coat. " Easy, my friend.
There's no material here for a joke. I am
sending you a bit of mutton, which will be
more in your way." No one was so easily
abashed as Mr. Webber. And thus, to his
own surprise, Mr. Cecil Leader found himself
elevated to a social position which he
had never enjoyed before. No one was so
astonished at this as Mr. Dunlop, who also
tried to resent it, but found public opinion
was against him. Even when stating some
obvious truth, based on accurate
newspaper authority, he was quietly put aside
by the Doctor with, " Can't agree with
you: but I think there is a good deal of
weight in what Mr. Leader said awhile
ago."

After dinner came the pleasant evening.
Billy Webber, having now got the range,
as an artilleryman would say, could now
enjoy his own steady and merry practice,
and co-operate with the family. Again
they had his songs, with which he enchanted
everybody; Doctor Findlater, to
whom they were always new, in generous
rapture, saying, "I declare, Billy, if I was a
lady I'd be tempted to run up and kiss you!"

Mr. Cecil Leader was greatly struck by
the performance. " Beautiful, beautiful,
splendid!" he said. " Never heard anything
like it."

"Thank ye, sir," said Mr. Webber;
"you make me proud. I have a little
organ of my own. I can't deny it. I'd be
glad to come up and sing for you any time.
Nothing I like more than a snug place and
appreciative listeners."

"You sing, Mr. Leader," said Polly, " I
know you do."

"How do you know it?" said the young
man. " I never sang in my life. I mean,
of course, except—"

"Oh, you must. I knew you did. Do, to
oblige us all. I am bent on it. Ah, do—
do!"

This " Ah, do!" in Irish girls of the south
is like a musical cadence, half entreaty; or
half expostulation, half sly mockery. " Ah,
do!" is pleasant and complimentary. Mr.
Cecil looked at Polly. Then a grave,
sweeter intonation came from a face beside
him, and Katey's pleading " Ah, do!" went
into his heart, and made it thrill. Suddenly
intervened Doctor Findlater, with a
kind of pettish impatience: "Leave him
alone, dears; really you are very troublesome.
This is always the way, Mr. Cecil.
If there is anything in the shape of pie,
the girls must be stirring it up. Here,
disperse—get away!"

The bright Polly's coral lips fell into
pouting shape: "Oh, papa!" And from
Katey a piteous "Ah, Peter dear!"

The young man was angry. "Here,