"I am asking you to tell him," said Lucy,
gravely.

Mrs. Dalrymple came up with her friendly
manner. "I am so glad you have come, for they
all said we were sure not to have you as Mr.
West did not come, and as you never went
anywhere without him. I could tell you the
funny reasons that wicked Captain Filby has
been giving for it."

Lucy looked down at Miss West in her
corner with a quick intelligence, as though
something had occurred to her mind for the first
time; but at the same instant Mr. Blacker
came plunging and striding at Mrs. Dalrymple,
grasped her wrist, and dragged her to the door,
with an agitated "Here they are! Come over,
quick."

Such a surprise for the company, even extorting
an impatient "Who the d—l have we here
now?—Blacker losing the half-pint of wits he
had," from Captain Filby. The tall, pink-
faced, pluffy squire, with that country-looking
girl on his arm. Guernsey Beaufort's brother
put up his glass, and seemed interested. She
had a delighted smile of half pleasure, half confusion.
People were not trained well enough at
Dieppe to go on talking; but every one stopped
in a death-like silence, and stared, and gaped.

Only Mr. Blacker was heard in fluent spasms:
"Mrs. Dalrymple, allow me—Mr. Wilkinson—
Mrs. Wilkinson. I thought, Mrs. Dalrymple,
I might venture to ask for a card for our
friends."

"I am delighted," the hostess replied. "I
hope you are not fatigued. Here, dear, get
Mrs. Wilkinson a seat."

Then followed great disturbance, and rustling
and unsettling, and the pretty bride,
for such she was, overwhelmed with
confusion, was duly seated. Mr. Blacker "lashed
himself" (Captain Filby's remark) firmly alongside
of the pink squire and pretty stranger,
and took care very minutely and
unnecessarily to give the details of their meeting,
that all the room should learn his title to the
possession and manipulation of the stranger.
They were his by the laws incident to jetsam
and flotsam. That title was always honourably
acknowledged in the colony. "And Lady
Mary Wilkinson," added Mr. Blacker, very
loud, "I hope we may soon be ordering rooms
for her."

A greater bustle still when Mrs. Dalrymple
with pride leads forward Guernsey Beaufort's
brother, who had asked to be made known
to Mrs. Wilkinson. He at once drops into
a seat beside her, takes possession of her, is
observed to make her smile and giggle
even, with grave observations delivered in a
mysterious way, looking at her askance as
he spoke. It was soon remarked that Mrs.
Wilkinson had made quite a conquest of Mr.
Guernsey Beaufort's brother.

A cheerful voice on the stairs, and Lucy
interrupts herself, calling in great spirits to
the pastor, who approves of her, and has
been telling her that there are at most but
two people in the world who understand him,
or ever will understand him:

"Here's dear old Harco at last."

Yes! here he was, talking and laughing up the
stairs, and leading in by the arm the handsome
stranger—the Spanish face—and revealing to
the terrified Mr. Blacker, who gave something
like a groan of agony, the dusky stranger who
had mistaken him for a Samaritan up at Sody's.
But he was now resplendent, fresh, clean,
delicate-looking perhaps, attracting all eyes.
Beside him, even the glitter of Guernsey Beaufort's
brother seemed to fade. Tailoring is to be had
cheaply enough, in one sense, by all indiscriminately;
but the true air, the carriage, is not to
be so bought. Mr. Blacker's penultimately
distinguished strangers seemed to fall back. Mr.
Dacres, as much at home as if he were at the
circuit recess, did the introduction.

"I've brought a friend, Mrs. D. We were
dining together, so I thought I might. He
and I are old friends—of certainly a fortnight's
standing. Ha! ha! Met twice, once in the
packet—ah! There's my Lulu's face, hiding
like a rose among the bushes. Our little
Samaritan, eh, Colonel Vivian? You and I
know the meaning of that."

Lucy had gone forward to meet him. "Charming
Samaritan!" he said, smiling; "not a Levite
who would stop for nobody except in a post-
chaise."

"Oh, oh!" said Mr. Dacres, full of suppressed
enjoyment. "Let me introduce you.
Mr. Blacker, Colonel Vivian."

Blacker, dreadfully taken aback, could only
murmur, "Really, so sorry; quite a mistake,
Colonel Vivian. Looking out for some friends
expected; came up at the same moment, you
see."

"Friends! Surely not," said the colonel,
good humouredly; "not the people in the post-
chaise? I envied them so much, as they seemed
strangers, and you volunteered your services.
Rather hard on me, who asked you first."

"See here, Colonel Vivian," Mr. Blacker said,
tapping him confidentially, as if to draw him
aside into a corner, where he would be told
something to his advantage. "I am so sorry about
this little mistake. But we will go together,
tomorrow, to a charming little bijou of a place—
a pet corner that I have kept specially for
you."

"For me? No, thanks. I am provided for
most delightfully close to Mr. Dacres here—
Hotel Robert."

Mr. Blacker knew the place. This was a
fresh blow. People standing about knew in an
instant that something was going on to the
disadvantage of Mr. Blacker, though they were
ignorant of details; and he seemed to fall that
night like the funds in a panic.

"So you are better?" said Lucy. "Oh, you
are looking so much better. And I am sure
you like that dear little pair. You will find
them willing."

"That is everything," said he, "in everybody.
You are willing?"