Leader, as we have seen, was prepared to
admit, handsomely, that she had no claim
to good looks, but still she had that nameless
charm which is independent of physical
beauty, and which, as Doctor Findlater
would say, set her only about an hour and
a half behind the finest woman in England.
But the ambitious lady had other aims
besides advancement in fashionable life, or
the gratification of private friendship. She
thought of ratification by a certain marriage
of innumerable aspirations of her own; that
firm basis would secure her future elevation.
Miss Fountain would have about
five-and-twenty thousand pounds; a nice
compact sum, which would come in
conveniently and set up Cecil Leader. The
connexion was unexceptionable, desirable,
advantageous in every way. Even Mr.
Leader approved heartily. Mysikins was
a good girl, and he liked her. He, too,
had walks with her, when his soul
travelled back to the old happy days, when
he went down to court, and had chambers,
and was far happier than he was now.
On these expeditions, he would tell her
excruciatingly funny stories about Judge Nodder,
and Chief Justice Holborne, to which
she good-naturedly listened, and which she
even tried to relish. Indeed, she would
say openly, that she was in love with Mr.
Leader, and that he was the most charming
man she ever saw, ever met with. The
retired barrister was not in the least
embarrassed by the compliment, and ventured
on jokes in this shape, that when "the
opportunity came he would come to her."
These attentions Mrs. Leader did not quite
relish, much as was her friendship for Miss
Fountain: for though the barrister was an
ordinary, unassuming, un-Adonis sort of
man, her gentle heart was at times
tortured with jealousy. By-and-bye it came
to be understood that some matrimonial
engagement was to be made, and Mrs.
Leader, enlarging on future prospects with
her young friend in her walks, would say,
"that the wish of her heart, what she
lived and prayed for, was to see Mr.
Leader's son," so she always phrased it,
"united to her darling Mysikins. Oh, to
have her in the family, to be able to call
her daughter. It would be the making of
Cecil. Mysikins was too good for him, in
fact. And now, dear, tell me about Lady
Seaman; I am told she is so clever, so witty ;
can know any one she pleases." When
Mysikins would read an extract from one
of the Seaman letters, and the Ladies
Mariner, the countess's daughters, would
sometimes write, asking about the peculiar
Portuguese ornaments met with in the
island, Mrs. Leader would say she longed to
know that august mother of the Gracchi,
that she had a sort of admiration for her
gifts. And then the future daughter-in-
law would join warmly and cordially, and
say that in her very next letter she would
tell Lady Seaman. In this ornament question
she volunteered her services.

"It will give you such trouble, dear,"
she said, "and you must not overwork
yourself. Leave it to me." And she forthwith
went round the jewellers' shops, and
purchased some costly filigree work, which
she brought in to her friend. "Just say,
dear," she said, sweetly, "that I chose them.
We can send them over now; there will be
time enough to talk about the price. In
fact, the man does not know as yet." In
fact, the man never did know ; and, through
putting off, and forgetfulness, and long
lapse of time, the Ladies Mariner and their
mamma actually enjoyed the use of these
adornments without having to disburse a
farthing. They could not but feel, as Mrs.
Leader well knew, some gratitude for this
cheap enjoyment. And the investment, it
was certain, would bear fruit in time. Mr.
Leader had timorously hinted at the matter
to the general, who said, in his off-hand
way, "He was sure Master Cecil was a
fine officer-like fellow, and that he should
like him."

Meanwhile, the daughter of the Leaders
was recovering slowly, and was presently
well. Suddenly General Fountain
announced that he must return home; he
was uncommon sorry, and all that, but
go they must. With a semi-surprised look
of pleasure and wonder in combination,
Mrs. Leader looked sweetly at her
husband, then at her daughter. "My dear,
why shouldn't we? How shall I get on
without dear Mysikins ?" In short, it was
arranged, with delightful enthusiasm, that
they should journey home together, the
invalid being now quite restored.

The establishment was broken up, and a
frightful bill brought in—such as, indeed, if
brought in for the keep of half a regiment,
would have been alarming for the
commissariat. Above all, the major-domo, or
steward, with the French chef, entered
into a sort of conspiracy to be aggrieved
by this sudden dismissal, and insisted on a
species of damages, or compensation, which
Mrs. Leader indignantly repudiated, with
a semblance of honest indignation against
imposition. But the chef and major-domo,