shade better, she had yielded to the poor child's
importunate entreaties to be taken in her chair
as far as the crossing—no further—then to be
lifted to the window, in hopes of looking an
adieu to a little boy whose face she knew.

"To the crossing, eh? Which crossing?"
grunted the dissatisfied doctor. "Saint Paul's
Churchyard? Mile-end? The Tower?"

"No, no. Not two hundred yards. Mother
Rabbit's crossing."

"Rabbit! Mother Rab——And what
happened there and then?" asked Mr. Boreas, with
curious earnestness.

"My darling had her little chat with the old
woman, who is a protégée of hers. Suddenly,
however, she became deadly faint, and, you see,"
sobbed poor Mrs. Lamond, pointing towards the
inner room.

"I don't see," muttered the doctor. "Once
up, the air should have refreshed her. So,
nothing else passed, with—with——"

"The old woman? Nothing. She gave
Desirée her grateful blessing, and, as usual,
exhibited the little box, full of the snuff my darling
gives her."

"Did it make her sneeze?"

"Not that I remember."

"Let me see that snuff," said Mr. Boreas.

There was a packet of it in the chamber. It
was fetched. The doctor rubbed, smelled, even
tasted it, and finally took a mighty pinch.

"No harm there" he said, with decided
relish, and turned to re-enter the patient's room.
Suddenly pausing, he added, half interrogatively:

"These little excursions to—to the crossing
seem to have been usually succeeded by an
attack of this kind?"

Mrs. Lamond assented.

"I always detested that old hag," said Mr.
Boreas. "She brings us bad luck. Hang me
if I don't half believe the popular rumour that
credits her with the evil eye!"

He went softly into the chamber, was absent
about a minute, came back looking very grave,
said to Mrs. Lamond, as he passed through, and
as though in continuation of his last speech:

"And hang me if I don't search it to the
bottom!"

And went out.

Within a few minutes a court of inquiry was
being held in a back room at Dr. Normicutt's,
at which were present Dr. and Mrs. N., Mr.
Boreas, the Honourable Christian Bohné, Mr.
Murrell Sillito, and myself. There was no
charge against any one; but a mystery existed,
which, Dr. Normicutt politely remarked, it
must be the desire of every one present should
be dispelled. He invited Mr. Bohné to explain
what he had meant by saying that he would, or
that he had, "set Rabbit" upon Miss Lamond?
Mr. Bohné professed the wildest astonishment.
Such an expression conveyed nothing to his
mind. What upon earth did it mean? Dr.
Normicutt desired Mr. Sillito to repeat what he
had said.

Murrell did so. Christian roughly denied it;
but the opinion of every hearer was in favour
of the child. It seemed to be moreover known
that, although Mr. Bohné repulsed the old lady
under the public eye, he had been more than
once—nay, many times—seen talking to her by
stealth. The doctor therefore exhorted him
to state, at once, the object of these conversations,
throwing out a good-natured hint that
his doing so might only hasten the reward fairly
due to any works of unobtrusive charity.

Whom the gods doom to destruction they
make mad, says the classic proverb. Had
Christian Bohné caught at this timely straw
he might have been saved. There was nothing
to contravene the doctor's suggestion. But
Christian lost his temper, and, therewith, his
head. He refused any explanation, complained
rudely of the whole proceeding, declared
that he would not remain two days longer
in a house where a pupil, paid for as he was,
could be subjected to such insulting treatment,
and was withdrawing, with the avowed
purpose of writing to Lord Kalydon, when the
parlour-maid, looking a little flurried and
something ruddier than common, made her
appearance, and announced:

"Please 'm, Lord Kalydon!"

"Where?"

"In the drorn-room, 'm."

"In good time," said Doctor Normicutt.
"See his lordship, my dear. Mr. Bohné can
accompany you."

But Mr. Bohné showed no inclination to do
so. His face had turned as white as its native
hue permitted. He stammered something about
waiting till he should be sent for, and left the
room. The court of inquiry perforce adjourned.
It never resumed its sittings, owing to what
occurred in (to use parliamentary language)
"another place."

Greetings over, Mrs. Normicutt had judged
it best to mention to Lord Kalydon the incident
that had occurred, and the mysterious expression,
from his ward's lips, which had induced
Mr. Borehouse to insist upon an inquiry.
Much to her surprise, as her narrative
proceeded, her visitor's face lost its jovial, not
to say reckless, expression. He evinced
the most eager and curious interest in the
whole story (for Master Sillito had made so
clean a breast of it, that my little love-story
had come out in full), and, when Mrs. Normicutt
concluded, rose and took his hat. His
face was white with rage, and, half appalled at
the effect of what she had related, Mrs.
Normicutt was about to ring, for the purpose of
summoning her husband, when Lord Kalydon
stopped her.

"I believe, my dear madam," he said, "that
/ am the person to solve this enigma. Give
me five minutes, during which I beg you to
remain quietly here, and you shall know if my
suspicions be correct. Fortunately I came in
a cab, and, no doubt, unnoticed. This Mother
Rabbit's crossing is at the end of the next
street. Thanks, don't ring. I can find my way."

It was the dinner-hour with Mistress Rabbit,