carriages, and the calling and shouting of
names. It was the most painful vigil she
had ever spent. But even this was as
nothing to what was to succeed. Indeed,
from that day great people began to drop
those Leaders, and her task of rolling the
big family stone up the hill became more
Sisyphus-like than ever.

In this state of mind, working herself into
fury at every fresh repulse and mortification,
and finding these poor redoubts and
outworks, which it had taken her years to build
up, all levelled of a sudden, Mrs. Leader
knew not what to do or whither to turn.
It was then that she received a visit from
Mr. Dick Lumley, who knew well enough
that the Leaders were still "a good mark
for costs," as the solicitors would say, in
the matter of good dinners, and, at least,
a week's entertainment; and, as he
repeated often, it was not one of his thirty-nine
articles to quarrel with his bread-and-butter,
and so he "dropped in to have a
chat."

"My dear lady," he said, "this is all
very disagreeable. But let them talk. It's
better than if he had married a housemaid,
as young Fitzlaurence did."

"Oh, it is dreadful," she said, " his having
brought this shame on us."

"Hush! Don't go saying that, my dear
Mrs. Leader. Make the best of it. No
advice like that. You remember I wanted
you to make terms all along—that is, if it
were possible," he added, hastily recalling
his own failure. "But if you forget it,
others will. After all, you have done with
the parties now, finally. What have they
to do with you any more? It was their own
act. They took their own course, and the
consequences. You begin again now."

"Yes," said Mrs. Leader, fiercely, "we
have done with them. He is no son of
ours. We shall never think of him more."

"That's the way to look at it! Let
that be properly understood, and it will do
a great deal. I'll take care to send it
about—that is, if you really mean formal
disinheriting, and all that."

"Indeed we do; if we live we shall
wipe off this disgrace—a country
apothecary!"

"My dear madam, you make too much
of it altogether—quite too much. It's
been done, and done again. No; start
again. That's the true course: reculer
pour sauter mieux, and we'll all forget it.
The Doctor—or else—Ah, Leader, how
are you?"

Mr. Leader had entered with the worried,
anxious look he now always wore. He
was, in truth, harassed and worried, and
it was telling on him.

"Or else—I was saying, Leader, about
this marriage—it might be better to make
the best of it; for I remember she is a
charming, distinguished girl; quite
elegant, in fact, and with a little polishing—
you know with gifts of that sort no one
asks who is who."

"Never!" said Mrs. Leader, firmly.
"Not if she was to die in the streets before
me."

"Lord bless us!" said old Dick, starting
at this fierceness.

"Well, I think so," said Mr. Leader,
earnestly. "She is a very sweet girl, and
every one would like her. I declare when
I saw her the day before we left, my heart
quite warmed to her."

"You saw her, sir! No matter. Don't
let us talk any more of it; my course is
determined on."

Old Mr. Lumley went his way, taking
with him a lively account of this interview
for his next dinner-party. In this fashion
did this charitable veteran turn his friends
to account.

Presently there arrived at Portman-square
Mr. Randall Morrison, the new
agent, fresh from the country, with all the
details as to the unhappy event. He told
them of the strange appearance presented
by the bridegroom on the day of the
ceremony. It was given out that the Doctor
had drugged him, just enough to carry him
through the business. He had nearly fallen,
several times. Mrs. Leader listened with
little interest.

"My mind is made up, Randall," she
said. "I know what course to take now.
If we were to hear of their begging at this
door, in this very square, they should not
have a halfpenny to go away. I'll level
that girl yet. After all, we are better
without them. What was he but an
imbecile and half an idiot? We must retrieve
this step. But here is all this labour and
expense all gone for nothing."

"Oh, we can easily retrieve that step.
And I think, with you, it is an advantage
to have got rid of him. He would always
have been the victim of some schemer.
We have got a little thing to dispose of
now—an heiress!"

"An heiress," she repeated,
mechanically.

"Yes, there are numbers of people of
rank and political influence who would be
delighted to get such a chance for their son,