upon Mr. Flush during the summer months
from anonymous but not altogether unknown
hands, he now received similar encouraging
tokens of a more earthly character : a wreath
of orange flowers, with "Hope on, Hope ever"
under it, in floss silk, and a vignette, on
perforated cardboard, of Robert Bruce and the
Spider, with a mediæval illumination, signifying
"Never despair;" he was also presented
by some humorous artist with the miniature
of a dog couchant upon a heap of something,
and "Semper fidelis" underneath. His
misfortune, however, was in a fair way
of being forgotten, but for what occurred last
summer. Barnley Combe had never had so
great an influx of company as then. Our
hotel was filled to overflow ; two of our
riding-donkeys died from exhaustion, a third
edition was called for of the guide-book, and
the bathing-machines were entirely reserved
for the ladies' use.

It was not this last circumstance, for
Peony Flush never bathed, but the first
which interfered with our good curate's
comfort. The Nobleman's Rest being full,
its landlady sent her respects to Mr. Flush,
and would he afford her the temporary
loan of a spare room in his house for a
widow and her daughter who had written
for apartments the day before, and were
coming on that evening in the expectation
of finding them? To refuse to perform a
kindness never entered into the good fellow's
feeling heart, but this request vexed him
mightily. The information that the ladies
were of a sumptuous character, and travelled
with two riding-horses, as well as their own
carriage, affected him nothing. If they had
been pedestrians, and were about to appear
in a walking-grove of bandboxes, they would
have alarmed him quite as much. He was
not sure if it would not be indelicate in him
to put his boots outside the door at night,
and he gave orders that his linen should be
removed—half dry—from the lines in the
back-garden. It would be a relief to him,
he said, if I would reside in the house during
the stay of the two visitors; and, at all
events, I must dine with him the first
evening, which I agreed to do. The curate's
dinners were rather neat ; his housekeeper—
who perfectly understood him and was not
altogether without hope, I think, of luring
him down from respect to matrimony—
had a way of anointing duck with lemon,
which, before I feasted at the Dovecot, I had
met with only in books. I therefore judiciously
rode out a few miles in the afternoon
in search of an appetite. There was a good
one to be got generally on the Bridle-road by
the sea-coast, which cuts through the sheep
and cattle-pastures, and I chose that way. It
is much intersected with small white gates
which mark the boundaries of the fields, and
one of these it puzzled me a good deal to
open. The day was hot and my horse was
fidgety, so that I knew better than to get off
and risk not getting on again; but I could not
undo the spring-bolt anyhow. While I was
wheeling and reaching, and changing from a
red to a white heat, and had got from "dear
me" and "botheration," to "confound the
thing!" I was startled by a rather shrillish
voice from the other side of the gate, and up
came a lady upon a showy bay at a hard
gallop, with a "By your leave, sir, for a
moment"—and the showy bay and his feminine
burthen dashed over the five-barred
together, like a monstrous bird—just shaving
my head, as I should think, by about
a quarter of an inch. Secondly, came a
groom with another bay; and, thirdly, a huge
mastiff-dog (who made a snap at me in the
air) with another bay ; and in a moment I was
left alone in a cloud of dust.

I took the remainder of my ride in peace;
and having accomplished my object, returned
to Barnley Combe. My appetite was of that
nicety that five minutes either way would
have deteriorated it materially; but, I well
knew that Mrs. Softairs was punctual to an
instant. As I trod her well-known staircase
I felt as confident of all things being well, as
a human being can feel. The odour of the
stuffing seemed to salute my nostrils. I had
decided on a wing and a slice of the breast.
Alas! the cloth was not even, laid upon the
dining-table, but there was a little folded
note addressed to me instead :

" Dear Friend,—Adieu for ever. By the
time you read this I shall be far away. It
seems like a fatality ; but while I have life I
will resist it. L. is in the house. L. and her
mother—and the abominable ——"

A low growl here arrested my attention.
The mastiff dog was at the door who had
snapped at me in the afternoon without
effect. He said, as plainly as he could speak,
that he was determined to make up for his
disappointment on the present occasion.
I was resolving to sell my life dearly, when
the rather shrillish voice again came up
the stairs, and in at the window, and
down the chimney, as it seemed to me, at
once : "Tow, Tow, Tow, Tow, Tow! Good
little dog! Come to Lu Lu!" The creature
obeyed. I suppose there was some other
dinner awaiting him below, and I stole softly
away in safety.

Never again did I visit that snug parlour.
Never again was Peony Flush beheld by
Barnley-Combian eye. I recognised him, I
think, however, in the naval intelligence
column of the Times newspaper, as the Reverend
P. Flush, appointed chaplain to her
Majesty's ship Virgo, bound for Hong Kong;
where mastiff pups are fricasseed and stewed
and baked in pies before they attain maturity.