should be talked to—made to go out and see
people.  I am sure he likes you, uncle, and
would do anything for you.  You could talk to
him."

"Ah! you don't know, my dear child.  I have
tried all that; though now, indeed, if we could
get him to come up to a little dinner, it would
be different.  I never thought of that."

The young girl allowed him to work this
conclusion out for himself without interruption.

'I'll do that," said he, simply. "You wouldn't
mind it?  It is really a charity."

She turned away her head, blushing, and a
little ashamed of this half intuitive deception,
and said, "Oh, not in the least."

"You saw him, you know," he went on,
"coming up in the train.  He is a nice fellow—
a good fellow.  I know you'll like him.  If you
and Anne would humour him a little!  Upon
my word I do pity him, and wish from my soul
that I could find some way of helping him.  You
see I am not clever.  They always told me,
'Tom Diamond, you'll never fire the Thames.'
But that's a very good idea, and I never thought
of it before, and I'll go this very day."  And he
went off at once to ask his friend.

Mr. Tillotson refused, wearily but gently.
But the captain was not disheartened.  "But
now," he added, almost imploringly, "would
you do something for me?  Would you?  No,
you wouldn't."

"Indeed I would," said Mr. Tillotson, smiling.

"Dine—see people—that's all.  Make a
beginning with me, now.  Do, there's a good
fellow.  Look at me, now, with those two girls,
the creatures!  Upon my word, my heart bleeds
for them.  I don't know how to entertain them
and amuse them.  And it is very hard on them
to be shut up with an old fellow.  Come
to-morrow—do."

Mr. Tillotson took his hand.  "The idea of
my entertaining ladies!  My dear friend, I would
do anything for you. But don't ask me—I am
out of place—not suited for that.  I tried it some
weeks ago, and it didn't do.  I am as well as I
am."

"Try it again.  You must, to oblige poor Tom
Diamond.  You promised, you know.  Come,
make it to-morrow for a beginning.  One of our
little dinners, you know.  I'll give you a lobster
at ten o'clock, in a despatcher. You know I
can do that sort of thing."  And so he could;
it was a very pleasant sight to see the captain
with his "despatcher" on the table, limping
about the room, bringing his lemon, and cayenne,
and his little seasonings from many quarters
and corners, and then lighting his spirits at the
proper moment.  And, to say the truth—as,
indeed, General Cameron and other officers often
protested—there was no one who could prepare
that delicacy like Tom Diamond.

Mr. Tillotson at last gave in.  "I am not
very well,"  he said.  "Something is coming
over me, I don't know what.  But I'll come."

"Nonsense, my dear boy," said the captain,
heartily.  "I am very much obliged to you, I am
indeed. It is truly kind of you to come and sit
with an old fellow.  And they are nice girls, too.
I pity them, the creatures!  No father or
mother, and so gentle.  I am not up to this
sort of thing, you see.  Good-bye, Tillotson
Thank you."

When uncle Tom returned home, and in great
spirits announced this news as a triumph of
diplomacy, it was received very calmly by the
elder girl.  But a flush came to the cheeks of
the younger.  She was happier and more talkative
for all the rest of the night.

On the next night came Mr. Tillotson, still
looking ill.  But he was making an effort.
"Doing too much," said the captain, looking at
him anxiously.  "You must take care of yourself.
'Proper vit'm,' thus something goes on in
that way, but old Stubbs, our schoolmaster in
the country, was always saying it.  It means,
that it is very foolish to be losing one's life
entirely for work.  He always rolled it out like
thunder.  But he was an uncommon good
scholar, I can tell you; which, between you and
me and the post, dears"—a favourite colloquialism
of the captain's—"I never was."

It was a very "nice" little dinner, which,
with a pardonable inconsistency (minding his
declaration as to incompetency), the captain had
wholly "designed" himself.  But by way of
suggestion; as, for instance: "Don't you think,
my dear, that a roast duck would be a good
thing?  I don't know a better thing, in its way,
than a duck and green peas."

Mr. Tillotson talked agreeably, and tried hard
to talk agreeably.  He told them about the
cathedral town, then about his travels somewhere
abroad.  To which the captain listened
devoutly, nodding his head now and again, and
saying: "See that, now.  Most entertaining.
Like a book, I declare!"  The young girl
scarcely spoke, but kept her eyes fixed on him;
which Mr. Tillotson was quite conscious of, and
seemed to resist in a little way, for he kept
his face turned away from her all the night, and
addressed himself more to the elder Miss
Diamond.  This ground she tried very often to
recover, with all sorts of restless arts, starting
into the middle of sentences, and sometimes
breaking into a curious volubility.  But without
the least effect.  Did Mr. Tillotson, who was
very sensitive, detect the meaning that lay under
this sort of attention, or did he suspect
unreasonably?  Rude, or even politely neglectful, he
could not be.  But there was an indistinct
manner of his, which, to her, was quite
intelligible.  Captain Diamond, however, had little
instinct of it.

"I am very glad to have you in this way," he
said, "and it is very kind of you to come.  I
can't tell you how you entertain us.  Don't he,
Alice?  It brings up the places you know.
Don't it, Alice?"

"Yes, yes, uncle," said she, eagerly.  "I see
it all perfectly as if it were in this room.  Do,
do go on?"

"I have no gift for story-telling or description,"
he said to Captain Diamond.  "My dear
friend, you never heard me celebrated for that.