Dick, "but you won't make out this; there's
some new preparation of Mercury, and there's
musk, and there's horehound, and there's a
neutral salt; and dal his old head that wrote it!"

"Hold your jaw, and listen, while I construe it
to you. ' Die Mercurii, on Wednesday—decimá
horá vespertiná, at ten o'clock at night—eat in
Musca:' what does that mean? ' Ad Prætorium,
to the Prætorium. Eat in Muscá?' I see;
this is modern Latin with a vengeance. ' Let
him go in a fly to the Prætorium. Saltet, let
him jump— cum tredecim caniculis, with thirteen
little dogs—præsertim meo, especially with my
little dog.' Dicky, this prescription emanates
from Bedlam direct. ' Domum reditta'—hallo!
it is a woman, then. ' Let her go in a fly to the
—Town-hall,' eh? 'Let her jump,' no, 'dance,
with thirteen whelps, especially mine.' Ha! ha!
ha! And who is the woman that is to do all
this, I wonder?"

"Woman, indeed!" said a treble at the door;
"no more than I am; it's for a young lady. O,
jiminy!"

This polite ejaculation was drawn out by the
speaker's sudden recognition of Alfred, who had
raised his head at her remonstrance, and now
started in his turn: for it was the black-eyed
servant of Albion Villa. They looked at one
another in expressive silence.

"Yes, sir, it is for my young lady. Is it ready,
young man?"

"No, it ain't; and never will," squealed Dick,
angrily; " it's a vile 'oax; and you ought to be
ashamed of yourself bringing it into a respectable
shop."

Alfred silenced him, and told Sarah he thought
Miss Dodd ought to know the nature of this
prescription before it went round the chemists."

He borrowed paper of Dick, and wrote:

"Mr. Alfred Hardie presents his compliments
to Miss Dodd, and begs leave to inform her that
he has, by the merest accident, intercepted the
enclosed prescription. As it seems rather a
sorry jest, and tends to attract attention to Miss
Dodd and her movements, he has ventured, with
some misgivings, to send it back with a literal
translation, on reading which it will be for Miss
Dodd to decide whether it is to circulate:

"' On Wednesday, at ten P.M., let her go
in a fly to the town-hall, and dance with

thirteen {little dogs, puppies, whelps} especially with mine:
return home at six A.M., and sleep till dinner, and
repeat the folly as occasion serves.'"

"Suppose I could get it into Miss's hands
when she's alone?" whispered Sarah.

"You would earn my warmest gratitude."

"'Warmest gratitude'! Is that a warm gownd
or a warm cloak, I wonder?"

"It is both, when the man is a gentleman, and
a pretty, dark eyed, girl pities him and stands his
friend."

Sarah smiled, and whispered, " Give it me;
I'll do my best."

Alfred enclosed the prescription and his note
in one cover, handed them to her, and slipped a
sovereign into her hand. He whispered, "Be
prudent."

"I'm dark, sir," said she: and went off
briskly homewards, and Alfred stood rapt in
dreamy joy, and so self-elated that, had he been
furnished like a peacock, he would have instantly
become "a thing all eyes," and choked up
Jenner's shop, and swept his counter. He had
made a step towards familiarity, had written
her a letter; and then, if this prescription came,
as he suspected, from Dr. Sampson, she would,
perhaps, be at the ball. This opened a delightful
vista. Meantime Mrs. Dodd had communicated
Sampson's opinion to Julia, adding that there
was a prescription besides, gone to be made
up. " However, he insists on your going to this
ball."

Julia begged hard to be excused: said she was
in no humour for balls: and, Mrs. Dodd objecting
that the tickets had actually been purchased,
she asked leave to send them to the Dartons:
"they will be a treat to Rose and Alice; they
seldom go out: mamma, I do so fear they are
poorer than people think. May I?"

"It would be but kind," said Mrs. Dodd.
"Though really why my child should always be
sacrificed to other people's children——"

"Oh a mighty sacrifice!" said Julia. She sat
down and enclosed the tickets to Rose Darton,
with a little sugared note. Sarah being out,
Elizabeth took it. Sarah met her at the gate, but
did not announce her return: she lurked in
ambush till Julia happened to go to her own
room, then followed her, and handed Alfred's
missive, and watched her slily, and, being herself
expeditious as the wind in matters of the heart,
took it for granted the enclosure was something
very warm indeed; so she said with feigned
simplicity, " I suppose it is all right now, miss?"
and retreated swelling with a secret, and
tormented her fellow-servants all day with inuendoes
dark as Erebus.

Julia read the note again and again: her heart
beat at those few ceremonious lines. "He does
not like me to be talked of," she said to herself.
"How good he is! What trouble he takes about
me! Ah! he will be there"

She divined rightly; on Wednesday, at ten,
Alfred Hardie was in the ball-room. It was a
magnificent room, well lighted, and at present not
half filled, though dancing had commenced. The
figure Alfred sought was not there; and he
wondered he had been so childish as to hope she
would come to a city ball. He played the fine
gentleman; would not dance. He got near the
door with another Oxonian, and tried to avenge
himself for her absence on the townspeople, who
were there, by quizzing them.

But in the middle of this amiable occupation,
and, indeed, in the middle of a sentence, he
stopped short, and his heart throbbed, and he
thrilled from head to foot; for two ladies glided
in at the door, and passed up the room with the