I had you ten minutes in the witness-box——"
Then, seeing some disturbance and alarm in
her face at this matter-of-fact picture of what
she had done, he added: "Don't mind, Lulu
love; it's only the way I'd leave it to the
jury, supposing they ever put me on a bench—
that is, supposing the sky to come down upon us
one day. Though God help us before a jury
of this place—virgins or matrons. I tell you
what, I'll just run over and see our friend. It's
only polite, you know—a poor stranger in the
place, without a friend. And I tell you what,
too, we'll bring him off with us to the divarshion
to-night, and my Lulu can study his
Spanish face to her heart's content."

"No, no," said she, gravely, "we must not
disturb him, Harco dear. He wants to be quiet,
and looks very ill."

"The yellow Spanish tone, my dear," said
he, in high good humour. "You took it
for jaundice. I'll bring him, canvas, frame,
and all. Who knows, pet, but we may have
him laughing in your room before long, ha!
ha!—by a red cord, ha! ha!"

This shape of jest began to trouble Lucy a
good deal. When her father was in spirits, and
he had got hold of what he thought was a "good
thing to work," she knew there was no restraint.
As he said, he made the punch boil
with anything that came handy, even with what
might affect his darling Lu's most tender sensibilities.

"Now you must promise me," she said,
gravely, and as though she were lecturing a
younger brother, "not to be saying that sort of
thing before strangers. You know, dear, the
set of people that are here, and how unkindly
and unscrupulously they speak."

He became grave. "What was I called to
the bar for? Tell me that. What do the
attorneys come to me for? Is there a man among
all those rascals in the "stuff"—and there isn't
a better-hearted lot in the world than on circuit
—is there one of 'em, I say, can take a case
lightly and gingerly over a hole just covered
with a few rotten sticks and a little grass,
maybe? Ah! Dacres is the coachee they want
for nice tender driving like that—eh?" And he
seemed to wait a reply to this "poser," which,
had it been addressed privately to that large-
hearted circuit where he was so popular, would
have been answered in a fashion directly opposite
to what he anticipated; for in delicate parts
of a case it was notorious his rough indiscreet
driving was sure to send everything through.

In such a humour remonstrance was useless,
and Lucy saw him gaily cross the street—a boy
carolling pleasantly—to invade the premises
opposite. Then Lucy saw, with a little alarm,
many such crossings.

CHAPTER XII. THE PARTY.

ON the first floor of the milliner's shop—
"Ong ho" at Mrs. Dalrymple's—was some agitation.
A few friends were coming that night.
Here was one of those little parties which
people, apologising for the place, said was the
real charm of Dieppe. There was no fuss, no
constraint, no elaborate preparation; you were
glad to see your friends—so different from the
way at home. Suppers, balls, music, splendid
dresses, lights—the grand apparatus of festivity
—were absent; and their absence was made a
positive merit of. Who shall blame this
ingenious shift? It was impressed over and over
again on the wealthy, who, alas! could stay but
a day or so.

The little rooms were cleared a good deal.
The good lady, the hostess, enjoying in that
strange place the respect which decency and
conscience and fair conduct extort from those
who have long bid adieu to these virtues,
was busy with her preparations, which, as she
had not left behind in her native land a good
warm hospitality, were liberal. Many called this
foolish as they enjoyed it. Below there was kept
carefully apart, to be brought in at the proper
time, browned delicacies, fowls, galantines,
with other things of the same substantial family,
prepared under personal superintendence, each
the best of its kind, and chosen with skill.
Blessings on such kindly purveyors! They usher
in their little restoratives towards midnight with
a pleasant surprise, which we welcome more
than the ostentatious dainties served at the
official splendours of a ball.

But at the last moment, just as they were
lighting the candles, the little milliners below all
assisting with delight, here was Blacker's heavy
step on the stair, this panting figure stalking
up, and actually making the good lady of the
house nearly drop one of the wax-lights.

"My dear madam, see here! Such a thing
has turned up, and I haven't lost a moment
coming off to you. The nicest pair! Just
come! I sent 'em to the Royal at once.
The best people, and no mistake at all! She
of the highest, tip-top connexion. Where are
the girls, with the pen and ink? Just fill in
something nice—'request the pleasure,' and all
that."

There was a pleased agitation invading the
happy hostess, a flurry not at all undelightful.
The girls clustered from all quarters and crowded
about her.

"Dear, dear," said their mamma, smiling,
"where shall we put them all? But what's
the name, Mr. Blacker?"

"Wilkinson—Mr. Wilkinson and his wife,"
said the girls.

"Now fold it up," said Mr. Blacker. "I'll
take it myself; in fact, I told them I would show
them a little of our quiet society. I saw they
liked it. Oh, first-rate people—maid and
man in the rumble, and all that. See here,
Mrs. Dalrymple—this confidentially—I'll bring
them about half-past eight; not earlier, you
know. They are accustomed to the London
ways. 'Pon my word, very nice," he added,
looking round; "very nice, indeed!"

Before eight o'clock that night there was
near a dozen people assembled in these little
rooms, which looked cozy and inviting enough,
though Captain Filby (present in a pink under-