fidelity, and had brought his battered old carcase,
at the end of .the voyage, into port in his master's
house.

Seeing no one else of whom she could inquire,
Magdalen requested the old man to show her
the way that led to the housekeeper's room.

"I'll show you, my dear," said old Mazey,
speaking in the high and hollow voice peculiar
to the deaf. " You're the new maid—eh? And
a fine-grown girl, too! His honour, the admiral,
likes a parlour-maid with a clean run fore and
aft. You'll do, my dear—you'll do."

"You must not mind what Mr. Mazey says to
you," remarked the housekeeper, opening her
door, as the old sailor expressed his approval of
Magdalen in these terms. "He is privileged
to talk as he pleases; and he is very tiresome
and slovenly in his habits—but he means no
harm."

With that apology for the veteran, Mrs. Drake
led Magdalen first to the pantry, and next to the
linen-room; installing her, with all due formality,
in her own domestic dominions. This ceremony
completed, the new parlour-maid was taken
upstairs, and was shown the dining-room, which
opened out of the corridor on the first floor.
Here, she was directed to lay the cloth, and to
prepare the table for one person only—Mr.
George Bartram not having returned with his
uncle to St. Crux. Mrs. Drake's sharp eyes
watched Magdalen attentively, as she performed
this introductory duty; and Mrs. Drake's
private convictions, when the table was spread,
forced her to acknowledge, so far, that the new
servant thoroughly understood her work.

An hour later, the soup-tureen was placed on
the table; and Magdalen stood alone behind the
admiral's empty chair, waiting her master's first
inspection of her, when he entered the
dining-room.

A large bell rang in the lower regions—quick,
shambling footsteps pattered on the stone corridor
outside—the door opened suddenly—and a
tall lean yellow old man, sharp as to his eyes,
shrewd as to his lips, fussily restless as to all
his movements, entered the room, with two huge
Labrador dogs at his heels, and took his seat
at the table in a violent hurry. The dogs
followed him, and placed themselves, with the
utmost gravity and composure, one on each
side of his chair. This was Admiral Bartram
—and these were the companions of his solitary
meal.

"Ay! ay! ay! here's the new parlour-maid to
be sure!" he began, looking sharply, but not at al
unkindly, at Magdalen. " What's your name, my
good girl? Louisa, is it? I shall call you Lucy,
if you don't mind. Take off the cover, my dear—
I'm a minute or two late to-day. Don't be
unpunctual to-morrow on that account; I am as
regular as clockwork generally. How are you
after your journey? Did my spring-cart bump
you about much in bringing you from the
station? Capital soup this—hot as fire—reminds
me of the soup we used to have in the West
Indies in the year Three. Have you got your
half-mourning on? Stand there, and let me see.
Ah, yes, very neat, and nice, and tidy. Poor
Mrs. Girdlestone! Oh dear, dear, dear, poor
Mrs. Girdlestone! You're not afraid of dogs
are you, Lucy? Eh? What? You like dogs?
That's right! Always be kind to dumb animals.
These two dogs dine with me every day, except
when there's company. The dog with the black
nose is Brutus; and the dog with the white nose
is Cassius. Did you ever hear who Brutus and
Cassius were? Ancient Romans? That's right—
good girl. Mind your book and your needle;
and we'll get you a good husband one of these
days. Take away the soup, my dear, take away
the soup."

This was the man whose secret it was now the
one interest of Magdalen's life to surprise! This
was the man whose name had supplanted hers
in Noel Vanstone's will!

The fish and the roast meat followed; and the
admiral's talk rambled on—now in soliloquy, now
addressed to the parlour-maid, and now directed
;o the dogs—as familiarly and as disconnectedly
as ever. Magdalen observed, with some surprise,
that the companions of the admiral's dinner had,
thus far, received no scraps from their master's
plate. The two magnificent brutes sat squatted
on their haunches, with their great heads over
the table, watching the progress of the meal with
the profoundest attention, but apparently
expecting no share in it. The roast meat was
removed, the admiral's plate was changed, and
Magdalen took the silver covers off the two
made-dishes on either side of the table. As she
handed the first of the savoury dishes to her
master, the dogs suddenly exhibited a breathless
personal interest in the proceedings. Brutus
gluttonously watered at the mouth; and the
tongue of Cassius, protruding in unutterable
expectation, smoked again between his enormous
jaws.

The admiral helped himself liberally from the
dish; sent Magdalen to the side-table to get him
some bread; and, when he thought her eye was
off him, furtively tumbled the whole contents
of his plate into Brutus's mouth. Cassius
whined faintly as his fortunate comrade
swallowed the savoury mess at a gulp. "Hush!
you fool," whispered the admiral. "Your turn
next!"

Magdalen presented the second dish. Once
more, the old gentleman helped himself largely
—once more, he sent her away to the side-table
—once more, he tumbled the entire contents of
the plate down the dog's throat; selecting
Cassius, this time, as became a considerate
master and an impartial man. When the next
course followed—consisting of a plain pudding
and an unwholesome "cream"—Magdalen's
suspicion of the function of the dogs at the dinner-
table was confirmed. While the master took the
simple pudding, the dogs swallowed the elaborate
cream. The admiral was plainly afraid of
offending his cook on the one hand, and of