at first thought I had designs on the property
under her care; but afterwards fancied I was a
little "touched in the upper story." I could
almost laugh at this notion now, for the upper
story had something to do with my troubles.

Two—three—still she did not come.
Surely she would pack? At least, if she trusted
to a disorderly huddling up of her clothes,
"anyhow," she was scarcely the girl I took her
for. No—of course she had packed already.
Ah, she was hurrying in—just in time—I ran
to her.

"Could you spare me a few moments—
a hurried interview," I said, much agitated, "before
you go? Five minutes would be sufficient."

"Bless you, my dear sir, I haven't five
seconds, I must be at the train at four."

"Three minutes, then," I said, with reproach,
"two—you have been very unkind to me
latterly, and I did think, after the dressing-case
and the ladder——"

"I assure you," she said, " I meant nothing
—never intended it, at least."

"No," said I, "it wasn't you. I know
perfectly well who poisoned you——"

She coloured a little.

"Poisoned me!"

"Let me," said I, passionately, "let me go
up with you, and speak what I have to say as
we go up. I can go up-stairs now. I have
learned how."

"Go up-stairs now?" she said, looking at
me with wonder.

"Yes," I went on, "I have been training
myself secretly, when you little thought what I
was about. I began with one flight; then,
emboldened by success, went on to two——"

There was a rush behind me. "Bless you,"
he said, "you haven't twenty minutes to get to
the train. "Where are the trunks and things?"

"All ready," she said. "I am just going
up-stairs, and shall be down in a second."

"Up-stairs!" he said; "isn't there the lift?
We won't mind it," he added, laughing, "as it
is the last time, and besides, I have something
to tell you privately."

I looked at her bitterly.

"You said you'd take the stairs; but no
matter." I turned to go.

"Do come," he said, taking her hand, and
drawing her to the lift. "And as for you, sir,
for God's sake keep off, and stop worrying us."

She went with him. Suddenly she turned
and said to me in a kind voice, "I am sorry to
disappoint you, but if you have anything to
tell, or any message, you can go round by the
stairs, and meet me at the top."

A capital idea. I gave her a look of intelligence
to show that I understood the terrorism
under which she was acting.

He slammed the door of the apparatus. They
began to ascend, and I rushed round and began
what was literally for me a terrific and daring
ascent. I was racing against time. I took
three stairs at each stride. I believe there were
four hundred in all. When I had done about
two-thirds of the way, I began to feel signs
of distress. I was gasping, tottering; but I
still held on. My training was failing me—
my false, faithless, treacherous training. They
would be gone—be down even before me. But
I held on.

At last I was at the top, and joy! there
was she waiting patiently on the landing. She
saw me come in—panting, blowing, drooping,
with my head on one side, and my tongue hanging
out. I could have tumbled forward at her
feet, but caught the banister. Her face
all lit up with pleasure and delight and
sympathy.

"Now," said she, "I can give you a minute,
while Mr. Ridley has gone to see about the
trunks. What do you want?"

"You!" I gasped out, with a sort of blow and
guggle.

"Me" she said, starting back.

"Yes," I said, "you must have—seen—it
long a-go—O my—(I shall never get over it!
Early pulmonary. Deck of a vessel!)—I have
a good competence, and shall make you ha—ha
—happy. O, I have no wi-ind——"

She burst out laughing. "My dear sir, this
is so kind and so flattering, and I assure you
I appreciate it. But it is unfortunate; you
are a little bit late; O ever so little."

"Late," I cried, holding my side, and
gasping.

"Yes," she said, "Mr. Ridley has been a little
before you."

"Before me!" I cried, starting back. " hen?
Where? How?"

"Only two seconds ago," she said, leaning
down her head, but from a different cause to
that which affected mine. "He has just
proposed for me—in the lift."

"IN THE LIFT!" I cried, with a stamp. "O
infernal hydraulic power. O wretched
apparatus."

"It was so fortunate," she went on; "if I had
gone up by the stairs, with you, it perhaps
might never have occurred. Every hotel should
have 'a lift.' "

        NEW WORK BY MR. DICKENS,
In Monthly Parts, uniform with the Original Editions of
            "Pickwick," "Copperfleld," &c.
    Now publishing, PART XV., price 1s., of
               OUR MUTUAL FRIEND.
              BY CHARLES DICKENS.
         IN TWENTY MONTHLY PARTS.
      With Illustrations by MARCUS STONE.
  London: CHAPMAN and HALL, 193, Piccadilly.

       Just published, in one vol., small post 8vo.
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         THE BUBBLES OF FINANCE
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