And then he took a great gulp, as if to swallow
as much fresh air as possible, and entered the
house, followed by his dog.

"Did you hear him, Nelly?" asked Kate.
"The wretch! I'm sure I won't be seen walking
with him, in his nasty black clothes, like an
undertaker!"

"He has a chimney-pot hat on, and has
brought his umbrella! Fancy! At the sea!"
said Ellen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Barford," said Mr.
Mortiboy; " domestic arrangements, eh? I
understand. If you've no objection, I'll do
myself the pleasure of cutting my mutton with you
to-day. And mutton it will be, I suppose!
Can't get any beef here, I understand,
except on Friday, which is killing-day for the
barracks. Bad arrangement that; wants alteration."

"Hadn't you better alter it then, Mr. Mortiboy,"
said Kate; " superintending the
butcher will be a pleasant way of spending your holiday."

"Joking, miss, eh? Well, I don't mind. But
ain't you coming out; young ladies, for a mouthful
of air. I suppose the old lady don't move so
early."

"If you refer to mamma," said Ellen, frigidly,
"she never goes out until just before dinner."

"Ah, I thought not. Old folks must wait
until the air is what they call warmed by the sun.
But that won't hinder our taking a turn, I
suppose. Where's Whiskerandos?"

"If, as I presume, you mean Mr. Sandham,
the gentleman who was here last night,
cannot inform you, Mr. Mortiboy," said Kate, with
a very flushed face, and a slightly trembling
voice; " but I would advise you not to let him
hear you joking about him, as he is rather quick-
tempered."

"Oh, indeed?" exclaimed Mr. Mortiboy, " a
fire-eater is he? Well, there's no duelling now,
you know. Any nonsense of that sort,—give
a man in charge of a policeman, or summons
him before a magistrate, and get him bound
over."

Just at this moment Mrs. Barford came in
and told the girls to get their hats on, and
show Mr. Mortiboy the prettiest spots in the
village, the Castle Hill, the ruined Abbey, and
the Smuggler's Leap. To these places they
went, Mr. Mortiboy discoursing the whole
way of the badness of the roads, and of what
improvements might be made if they had a
properly constituted local board of health at
Penethly; declaring that the cries of " Milford
oysters," and "fresh haddick," were entirely
unconstitutional and illegal, as no one had a
right to shout in the public streets; that there
ought to be proper stands provided for the car-
drivers; and that a regular police supervision
was urgently demanded. He did not think
much of the Abbey ruins, and he laughed in
scorn at the story of the Smuggler's Leap.
As they were on their homeward way, coming
round the Castle-hill, they met Mr. Sandham,
very ruddy and fresh, and shiny, and with a
couple of towels in his hand. He took off his
wide-awake as he approached the ladies, and
bowed slightly to Mr. Mortiboy.

"Ah, Mr. Sandham!" said Ellen, with an
admonitory finger, " you have been bathing again
by St. Catherine's Rock, after all the warning
we gave you!"

"My dear Ellen," interposed Kate, with a
petulant air, " how can you? If Mr. Sandham
chooses to risk his life after what he has been
told, it surely is nothing to us!"

"Now, Miss Kate, Miss Kate, that's not
fair!" said Sandham; "you know," he added,
dropping his voice, " that every word of yours
would have weight with me, but the tide was
slack this morning, and really there is no other
place where a swimmer can really enjoy a bath.
You are a swimmer, Mr. Mortiboy?"

"Yes, sir," replied that gentleman. " Yes, sir, I
can manage it. I've had lessons at Peerless Pool
and the Holborn Baths, and can keep up well
enough. But I don't like it. I don't see much fun
in what are absurdly called the ' manly exercises.'
Twenty years ago, young men used to like
driving coaches; now I can't conceive duller
work than holding a bunch of thick leather
reins in your hand, steering four tired horses,
sitting on a hard seat, and listening to the
conversation of an uneducated coachman. I never
ride, because I hate bumping up and down on a
hard saddle and rubbing the skin off my body;
I never play cricket, because in the hot weather
I like to keep quiet and cool, and not toil in the
sun; and as to going out shooting and stumping
over miles of stubble in September, lugging a
big gun and tiring myself to death, I look upon
that, as the pursuit of a maniac! I am a
practical man!"

"You are indeed!" said Kate, as she dropped
gradually behind with Mr. Sandham, and left
the practical man and her sister Ellen to lead
the way to the house.

It is unnecessary to recount the sayings and
doings of Mr. John Mortiboy during the next
few days. It is enough that he spent the
greater portion of them with the Barford
family, and that he so elaborated his ideas of
practicality, and so inveighed against everything
that was not absolutely useful in a
mercantile point of view—including, in a measure,
art, poetry, music, and the domestic affections—
that he incurred the unmitigated hatred of the
young ladies, and even fell to zero in Mrs.
Barford's estimation.

It was about the fifth morning after the
intrusion of this utterly incongruous element
into the society of Albion Villa, that Ellen
and Kate strolled out immediately after breakfast
with the view of escaping the expected
visit of their persecutor, and made their
way to the Castle Hill. The night had been
tempestuous, and from their window they had
noticed that a heavy sea was running: they
consequently were not surprised to see a little
group of people gathered on the heights looking
towards St. Catherine's Rock: a huge mass
of granite surmounted by an old ruin, round