and informed Colonel Chutney that his tailor
had waited on him by appointment.

"Show him into the dining-room. I will be
with him directly," returned the colonel.
"Louisa," he continued, " write a note to
Samperton; ask him to come and dine on Thursday,
or to fix his own day. We'll get Thompson
and Mango, and Mr. and Mrs. Bullion to meet
him. Nice woman Mrs. Bullion! Quite a woman
of the world; has her wits about her. I would
not mind laying long odds that Bullion never
stumbles over mats and brooms when he comes
down to breakfast."

"I wish Tom was in town; he is always so
agreeable at dinner," said Mrs. Chutney, wisely
ignoring the disparaging conclusion of the
colonel's speech.

"Where is that scamp of a brother of yours?"
asked her husband.

"Oh, he is improving greatly! He has gone
out of town somewhere to study; and is so
determined to work, that he will not give his
address to any one, fearing to be interrupted."

"Ha! he may have other reasons. However,
you have finished breakfast, so sit down,
write to Samperton, and I will post the note
myself." Mrs. Chutney rose obediently, and
seated herself at the writing-table. "Don't
forget," continued the colonel, " to ask him for
an answer."

"Why, of course he will send an answer
if——-"

"There's no of course in the case," said
Colonel Chutney, sharply. "Just write as I
tell you;" then turning at the door, he added,
"and be sure you write to Deal about that
ottoman. It is too big. It is disgraceful!"
And he left the room.

Mrs. Chutney dipped her pen in the ink and
began. She was a gentle timid woman, and
had been early left an orphan to the care of a
severe, strong-minded maiden aunt, her father's
sister. Although she had a trifling independence,
enough to pay for her maintenance and education,
her aunt, nevertheless, treated her as if she
was the most abject dependent. Her brother,
a year or two older than herself, had, for no
particular reason, selected medicine as his
profession, and was the very type of a medical
student. He was a source of constant anxiety
to his sister, whose principal comfort lay in the
society of her cousin, Mary Holden, a girl about
her own age, who was also a ward of the
formidable aunt, Miss Barbara Bousfield.

Both these girls had been placed at the
respectable establishment of Mrs. and the Misses
Monitor by their guardian while yet children.
Here they remained for nearly ten years, happy,
with the inalienable joy of youth, despite the
frowns of Aunt Bousfield, the monotony of
school life, and the absence of future prospects;
especially for Mary Holden, whose little all did
not afford more than enough to pay for her
preparation for more mature years, when she
had nothing but her own exertions to look to.

Yet so much more depends on character than
circumstance, that Mary Holden, the poorer of
the cousins, successfully held her own against
the formidable aunt; while both Louisa and
Tom Bousfield trembled even at the shadow of
her coal-scuttle bonnet.

Mrs. Chutney had scarcely finished one of
her notes when the door opened, and a young
lady entered in bonnet and shawl—- a graceful-
looking girl, shorter and slighter than Mrs.
Chutney, with large dark grey eyes, shaded
by black lashes, and brown, wavy, glossy hair,
a pert little nose, and a mouth so red-lipped,
so arch, so changeable in expression, and
parting to show such radiant teeth, that you
readily forgave it for being larger than
regulation beauty admits. She wore a delicately-
tinted summer dress, and a barége shawl draped
à la Parisienne. Miss Holden had, by much
courage and dexterity, obtained. leave to spend
the last year in a Parisian " pension," for sundry
educational reasons, and that she might, a few
months hence, be justified in putting forth,
"French acquired on the Continent," as one of
her recommendations when commencing the
real battle of life. She had now settled as a
parlour boarder at the old school; which had
the advantage of being in the neighbourhood to
her cousin Louisa.

Mrs. Chutney's face brightened as she rose
to kiss her visitor.

"Oh, Mary dear! I am so glad to see you!
How is it that you are so early?"

"Well, Aunt Barbara called for me this
morning," replied Miss Holden, "and hurried
me along in her usual rapid style; then she
stopped suddenly near this, and exclaimed,
' There, I forgot, I took you out too soon! I
don't want you—- go see your cousin, and say I
will call about luncheon-time.'"

"No matter what reason," said Mrs. Chutney,
affectionately; " I think it good if it brings
you here."

"What is the matter with you, Louisa?" was
Mary's not very relevant reply; " you look as
if you were in some kind of trouble."

"Oh! nothing particular, only I am always
wrong about something or other, and I fear I
shall never be right."

"No, you never will be right as long as
you think so, Loo dear. Just believe firmly
you are never wrong, and the chances are, that
two-thirds of the world will agree with you.
You are a dear good soul, worth a dozen of me;
but you let every one put you aside. You are
always fancying you have staked your last
throw. Pooh, love, there is no such thing as a
last throw! Life is Fortunatus's purse—- while
there is life, there is hope."

Mrs. Chutney's reply was interrupted by the
colonel's loud voice outside: " No, sir, certainly
not! you agreed to fit me, and you have not
fitted me. A waistcoat! Nothing of the sort,
sir. I say it's a bag—- a bag, sir. No alterations
for me, O no. A new one, or nothing."

"Oh, Mary!" exclaimed Mrs. Chutney, "I
have not finished my notes. Speak to him,
dear, when he comes in—- keep him engaged."

She had hardly re-seated herself when the