eye-glass. " I have heard so much about him, my
dear Lady Castletowers, and I dying to see him!"

Miss Hatherton was a tall, handsome young
woman of about five or six-and-twenty, with black
eyes, fine teeth, a somewhat large, good-natured
mouth, and a very decisive manner. She made
one of a little privileged knot that was gathered
behind Lady Castletowers; and amused herself by
criticising the guests as they came up the stairs.

"The noble savage!" repeated Lady Castletowers.
" Whom can you mean, Miss Hatherton?"

"Whom should I mean, but this young man
who has inherited the famous legacy?"

"Mr. Trefalden? Oh, he was here but a few
moments ago. There he stands, by the fireplace."

"The Antinous with the golden curls? But,
my dear Lady Castletowers, he's absolutely
beautiful! And he doesn't look savage at all.
I had expected to see a second Orson—a
creature clothed in raiment of camel's hair, or
the skins of wild beasts. I declare, I am
disappointed."

"Mr. Trefalden is a very pleasant person,"
said Lady Castletowers, with a faint smile.
"And very unassuming."

"Is he indeed? Pleasant and unassuming
—dear me, how very charming! And so rich,
too! Worth millions upon millions, I am told. I
used to think myself above the reach of want,
at one time; but I feel like a pauper beside him.
Who is this stout person now coming up the
stairs, covered with as many stars as the celestial
globe?"

But before Lady Castletowers could reply,
the name of His Responsibility Prince Quartz
Potz was thundered forth by the groom of the
chambers, and the noble Prussian was bending
profoundly over the fair hand of his hostess.

"What a funny little fat man it is!" said the
heiress, in her loud way, looking after His
Responsibility through her glass, as he passed on
towards the adjoining room.

"Prince Quartz Potz, my dear Miss Hatherton,
is a highly distinguished person," said Lady
Castletowers, greatly shocked.

"Oh yes—I know he is."

"He is distantly connected through his
maternal great-grandmother, the Margravine of
Saxe Hohenhausen, with our own Royal Family;
and the present Grand-Duchess of Zollenstrasse
is his third cousin twice removed."

Miss Hatherton did not seem to be at all
impressed by these facts.

"Ah, indeed," said she, indifferently. " And
this fine man with a head like a lion—who is he?"

"Mr. Thompson, the member for Silvermere,"
replied Lady Castletowers, when the
gentleman had made his bow and drifted on
with the stream.

'' What, the great Thompson?—the Thompson
who instituted that famous inquiry into the
abuses of the Perquisite Office?"

"I do not know what you imply by ' great,'
my dear Miss Hatherton," said the Countess,
coldly, " but I believe Mr. Thompson's politics
are very objectionable."

"Ah, I see you don't like him; but I shall
implore you to introduce me, notwithstanding.
I have no politics at all, and I admire talent
wherever it is to be found. But, in the mean
while, I have lost my heart to Antinous, and
am longing to dance with him. Do pray make
us known, dear Lady Castletowers."

"Upon whom does Miss Hatherton desire to
confer the honour of her acquaintance?" asked
Lord Castletowers, who happened to come by
at the moment. " Can I be of any service?"

"Of the utmost. I want to be introduced to
this Mr. Trefalden, about whom all the world
has been talking for the last five or six weeks."

"I will perform the office with great pleasure.
Will you allow me to hand you to a seat,
while I go in search of him?"

"Thanks. And be sure you make him dance
with me, Lord Castletowers—I want to dance
with him above all things. He can dance, I
suppose?"

"Of course. How can you ask such a
question?"

"Because I have been told that he was a
perfect wild man of the woods before he
inherited his fortune—couldn't write his name, in
fact, six weeks ago, and had never seen a
sovereign in his life."

"If you mean that he has not yet been
presented at St. James's, you are probably right,"
replied the Earl, smiling.

"What, a pun, Lord Castletowers? How
shocking! I did not believe you capable of
such an enormity. But do pray tell me a little
truth about your friend; for I dare say I have
heard plenty of fiction. Was he not really a
barbarian, after all?"

"No more than I am."

"Is it possible?"

"Nor is that all. Saxon Trefalden has plenty
of solid learning under those yellow locks of his,
Miss Hatherton. He speaks French, Italian,
and German with equal facility; he is a first-
rate mathematician; and as for his Greek and
Latin scholarship, I have known nothing like it
since I bade farewell to the dear old professors
at Magdalen College."

"Well, you surprise me very much," said
Miss Hatherton, "and I cannot deny that I'm
disappointed. I had far rather he had been a
barbarian, you know. It would have been so
very delicious!"

"Perhaps, then, you will be consoled by finding
him as unsophisticated as a child. But you
shall judge for yourself."

And with this, the Earl installed Miss Hatherton
in an easy-chair, and went in search of
Saxon. The heiress immediately turned to her
nearest neighbour, who happened to be the
Bishop of Betchworth, and began a conversation.
It was Miss Hatherlon's way to be always
talking—and somewhat loudly, too.

"What have I done, my lord," said she,
"that you have scarcely spoken to me this
evening? I have a thousand questions to ask
you. I want to know how the renovations are
going on; and if you are really to have a stained