before Alfred's letter got there. "He is gone to
see poor Uncle Thomas."

"Why do you call him 'poor?'"

"Oh, he is not very clever; has not much
mind, Alfred says, indeed, hardly any."

"You alarm me, Julia!" cried Mrs. Dodd,
"what? madness in the family you propose to
marry into?"

"Oh no, mamma," said Julia, in a great hurry;
"no madness; only a little imbecility."

Mrs. Dodd's lip curved at this Julian answer;
but just then her mind was more drawn to
another topic. A serious doubt passed through
her, whether, if Mr. Hardie did not write soon,
she ought not to limit his son's attendance on her
daughter. "He follows her about like a little
dog," said she, half fretfully.

Next day, by previous invitation, Dr. Sampson
made Albion Villa his head-quarters. Darting
in from London he found Alfred sitting very
close to Julia over a book.

"Lordsake!" cried he, "here's 'my puppy,'
and 'm' enthusiast,' cheek by chowl." Julia
turned scarlet, and Alfred ejaculated so loudly,
that Sampson inquired what on airth was the
matter now?

"Oh, nothing; only here have I been jealous
of my own shadow, and pestering her who 'your
puppy' was; and she never would tell me. All
I could get from her," added he, turning suddenly
from gratitude to revenge, "was—that he was no
greater a puppy than yourself, doctor."

"Oh, Alfred, no; I only said no vainer," cried
Julia in dismay.

"Well, it is true," said Sampson, contentedly,
and proceeded to dissect himself just as he would
a stranger. "I am a vain man; a remarkably vain
man. But then I'm a man of great mirit."

"All vain people are that," suggested Alfred,
dryly.

"Who should no better than you, young
Oxford? Y' have got a hidache."

"No indeed."

"Don't tell lies now. Ye can't deceive me;
man, I've an eye like a hawk. And what's that
ye're studying with her? Ovid, for a pound."

"No; medicine; a treatise on your favourite
organ, the brain; by one Dr. Whateley."

"He is chaffing you, doctor," said Edward;
"it is logic. He is coaching her; and then she
will coach me."

"Then I forbid the chaff cutting young Pidant.
Logic is an ill plaster to a sore head."

"Oh, ' he labour we delight in, physics pain.'"

"Jinnyus, Jinnyus;
Take care o' your carkuss,"

retorted the master of doggrel. "And that is a
profounder remark than you seem to think, by
your grinning, all of ye."

Julia settled the question by putting away the
book. And she murmured to Alfred, "I wish I
could steal your poor dear headaches: you might
give me half of them at least; you would, too,
if you really loved me."

This sound remonstrance escaped criticism by
being nearly inaudible, and by Mrs. Dodd entering
at the same moment.

After the first greeting, Sampson asked her
with merry arrogance, how his prescription had
worked? "Is her sleep broken still, ma'am? Are
her spirits up and down? Shall we have to go
back t' old Short and his black draught? How's
her mukis membrin? An her biliary ducks, an—
she's off like a flash."

"And no wonder," said Mrs. Dodd, reproachfully.

Thus splashed Sampson among the ducks: one
of them did not reappear at all till dinner. Jane
Hardie accompanied her brother by invitation.
The general amity was diversified, and the mirth
nowise lessened by constant passages of arms
between Messrs. Sampson and Alfred Hardie; these
were characteristic, and a few dried specimens
will be laid before the reader at a proper time.

After tea came the first contretemps. Sampson
liked a game of cards: he could play, yet talk
chronothermalism, as the fair can knit babies'
shoes and imbibe the poetasters of the day.

Mrs. Dodd had asked Edward to bring a fresh
pack. He was seen by his guardian angel to
take them out of his pocket and undo them;
presently Sampson, in his rapid way, clutched
hold of them; and found a slip of paper curled
round the ace of spades, with this written very
clear in pencil,

REMEMBER THY CREATOR IN THE DAYS OF
THY YOUTH!

"What is this?" cried Sampson, and read it out
aloud. Jane Hardie coloured, and so betrayed
herself. Her "word in season" had strayed. It
was the young and comely Edward she wished to
save from the diabolical literature, the painted
perdition; and not the uninteresting old sinner
Sampson. He proceeded to justify her preference
by remarking that "remember not to trump
your partner's best card, ladies," would be more
to the point.

Everybody, except this hardened personage,
was thoroughly uncomfortable. As for Alfred, his
face betrayed a degree of youthful mortification
little short of agony. Mrs. Dodd was profoundly
disgusted, but, fortunately for the Hardies,
caught sight of his burning cheeks and
compressed lips. "Dr. Sampson," said she, with
cold dignity, "you will, I am sure, oblige me by
making no more comments; sincerity is not
always discreet; but it is always respectable: it is
one of your own titles to esteem. I dare say,"
added she with great sweetness, "our resources
are not so narrow that we need shock anybody's
prejudices, and, as it happens, I was just going
to ask Julia to sing: open the piano, love, and
try if you can persuade Miss Hardie to join you
in a duet."

At this, Jane and Julia had an earnest conversation
at the piano, and their words uttered, in a
low voice, were covered by a contemporaneous
discussion between Sampson and Mrs. Dodd.