MABEL'S PROGRESS.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "AUNT MARGARET'S TROUBLE."

BOOK V.
CHAPTER VII.  VISITORS AT DE MONTFORT
VILLAS.

AFTER the disagreeable business in which
Walter Charlewood had been involved at the
bank, Clement insisted that his brother should
return and share the family home. It was in
vain that Wat rebelled and implored;  there
was no resisting Clement's strong steady will.
"It must be so, Watty," he said. "Trouble
and danger have come from your leaving us.
Worse shall not follow if I can by any means
prevent it. Mother and Penny will receive you
gladly. The quiet peaceful home life will, after
a while, be much sweeter to you than——"

"Oh, home-life!" answered Walter, bitterly.
"I don't care to go back to a home where I'm
looked upon as a monster—a foil to your virtue
—neither have I any fancy for playing prodigal
son, and being cried over by the women."
Then, with a sudden change of tone, he whined
out like a chidden schoolboy, "I say, Clem,
don't make me go back there, old fellow! I'll
be as steady as a rock, and I won't forget what
you have done for me, and I will keep all
square and right; indeed I will! But—but
—it's so beastly dull at Barnsbury!"

It was all in vain. His rent (discovered to
be in arrear) was paid at the dingy lodging-
house, and himself and his portmanteau were
conveyed in a cab to his mother's home. Mrs.
Charlewood was so overjoyed to see her boy
once more under her roof, that it is to be feared
she was scarcely as much shocked as she ought
to have been at the immediate cause of his
being there. Clement did not needlessly
distress her; but of course it had been impossible
entirely to avoid imputing blame to his brother
in the matter, nor would he have deemed it
right or wise to do so had it been possible.
But not even to his sister Penny did he impart
all he knew of the extent of Walter's misconduct.
Whatever that was, it remained a secret
between the two brothers.

For a time, things went on quietly. Walter
was cowed by a sense of disgrace. Although
Penelope, at Clement's earnest request,
refrained from uttering any reproaches to her
youngest brother, the very fact of her unwonted
silence and forbearance stung him. He was
conscience stricken, and interpreted every word
and look as a stab aimed at himself. The little
household was peaceful, but sad. Walter's
presence amongst them had a depressing
influence. There was no longer that candour and
confidence in their home-talk which lightens all
burdens. Clement usually returned from his
office early, but there were occasions when he
was detained later. Walter had demanded a
key with which to let himself into the house
whenever he would; but this his brother had
rigidly refused to allow him. Walter made a
hard struggle for this privilege, but suddenly
ceased to ask for it, and took the habit of
going to bed early, as early sometimes as half-
past eight or nine o'clock. He professed that
the dulness and stupidity of his home-life made
him sleepy, and wished he were dead outright
rather than buried alive. "But, Wat," Penelope
would say, "you are always in such violent
extremes. Why can you not go out occasionally
and amuse yourself, and return home at a
reasonable hour? I would always sit up for
you until eleven. I, too, think it is not good
for you to be altogether buried alive. But why
need you be? It is your own fault."

To such speeches Walter would reply that he
was not a child, although Clem, having got the
upper hand, tried to treat him like one, and
that if he could not come in and go out without
being spied upon and lectured, he would stop
at home for good and all, and he hoped Clem
would like that!

Mrs. Charlewood was singularly silent during
these discussions; and whenever Penelope
spoke to her privately on the subject, would
say nervously, "There, love, don't talk about
it; let us be thankful that we have got the lad
at 'ome again. I know, dear, Clem is very
good and wise; but—isn't he a bit stern with
Wat now and then? Well, there; I dare say
I'm all wrong. Don't scold me, Penny;
don't, my dear! All I want is to keep peace
and good will among you all."

One morning at breakfast Clement said to
his mother, "Our little servant has one most
singular propensity—she is not generally apt to
originate any service, or to do anything in the
way of work that she can leave undone; but
she keeps the lock of the street door oiled and
cleaned in the most wonderful way—the hinges