had that day come to the knowledge that he
was, and that he had been for a long time, in
love with Laura Stalman.

To be in love for the first time in your life at
the age of forty-two, and, moreover, to feel
hopelessly too old for the person you love, is a
very serious matter. Of course Mr. Pringleson
knew that he could never marry Laura, and tried
to be very philosophical about it. Perhaps he
was so, but he failed to sleep the better for it.

The Stalmans were to set up a small house
to begin with, in a very different kind of
neighbourhood. "Poor Eliza Price," for the first
time, seemed likely to deserve her name. She
was to remain in the old place and go on
letting the rooms, helped out by an allowance
from her old friend. So she had one or two
sleepless nights, and went about the house with
red eyes.

"And what are you going to do, Bluebeard?"
inquired Laura, one evening, as he came in
from work and found her alone. "Go away
while we move, I suppose?"

"No. Why should I go away? I may as
well stay and see the last of you."

"The last of us! You are coming with us,
are you not?"

"Coming with you? My dear child, I have
been here as your lodger. You will take no
lodger now. I shall keep my old quarters here
and console Miss Price."

"Oh dear, oh dear! How dreadfully clear
and reasonable," said Laura, looking disconsolately
into the fire. "I never thought of it
before. I don't think I should have wanted so
to go to the new house if I had." She went
away after dinner, and did not come down
again, saying she was packing books; but
when Mr. Pringleson passed her door, she came
out to bid him good night, and then he saw
that she had been crying.

In that last fortnight of Laura's remaining
at the old house, Mr. Pringleson's walks got
sadly neglected. The hour and a half before
dinner was too enticing, and it was "only for a
fortnight," as he said to himself. Towards the
end of the time he began to forget that he was
forty-two.

The last day came.

"You will come and see us directly?" said
Laura.

"Yes, I shall come soon, while I may," said
he. " By-and-by you won't want me."

"What do you mean?"

"When you begin to get fashionable, you
won't want an old rusty schoolmaster."

"Mamma, do you hear how craftily he is
fishing for a compliment? I shall not make
you one, sir. But mind! you are to come. I
made you do what I pleased, in the train when
I was a little girl, and I shall make you do
what I please still."

He went to see them very soon.

Their house was pretty and fresh, and he was
shown up into a tasteful drawing-room where
Laura and her mother were sitting at a kettle-
drum with a number of strange people. Mr.
Pringleson was very shy, so he sat down and
mechanically consumed tea and bread-and-butter
until people began to go, when he rose too.

"Wait five minutes," said Laura, in a low
tone. He sat down very obediently till the
house was cleared. Then Laura shut the door
in triumph.

"Now, we will be cozy," said she. "Come
out of that uncomfortable chair, you dear old
Bluebeard, and come close to the fire. Oh,
mamma dear! Isn't it nice to see a friend's
face again? We are so tired of making new
acquaintances," she added, looking to Edward
for sympathy.

"My dear child," interposed Mrs. Stalman,
"what an ungrateful speech. And after people
have been so kind, and given you so many
invitations!"

"Yes, I know, mamma dear; but it seems
odd for people to come and see us because
we have become rich. They didn't care for us
when we were not rich."

"They didn't know us then, my dear; and
now Mrs. Leith has introduced them to us, and
it is quite a chance, even, that we know her.
A most curious thing," she explained to Mr.
Pringleson. "An intimate friend of poor John
Tustin's in India, who saw him a fortnight
before his death. She happens to be a client of
the same solicitor who is acting for us, and so
introduced herself."

"Very curious," said Mr. Pringleson, who
had got into a dark corner, and was reflecting
that Laura looked rather tired.

"If you had come in a little sooner,"
pursued Mrs. Stalman, "you would have met a
friend: Mrs. Goldridge."

"Yes," interposed Laura, " and we are very
angry that you never told us more about her.
She says you are a most particular friend of
hers."

Mr. Pringleson presently made another effort
to leave, but was persuaded to remain and
dine, as they had no engagement for that evening.
His inward gratification at this arrangement
was somewhat damped by the announcement:
"Mr. Shepherd."

"Really it is too bad of me," that gentleman
remarked, as he came in; "you ought to
turn me out, after my coming yesterday; but
I really couldn't help coming up, as the servant
said you were in. I intended only to come to
the door to ask if I had left an umbrella here,
but your windows looked highly inviting, and
it is just beginning to rain. Why, Pringleson!
How do you do? The idea of your knowing
Pringleson!"

"The idea of your knowing him I think more
remarkable," said Laura, with a look into the
dark corner where he sat.

"I was at school under him," cried Mr.
Shepherd. "I used to look up to him awfully
in those days, I assure you."

The rain now beginning to announce itself
against the window-panes very noisily, Mrs.
Stalman, under the influence of an impulse,
framed and uttered a proposal which she would
ordinarily have taken a week to decide upon.

"It is terribly wet, Mr. Shepherd. Mr.