of the visitors thought we were engaged
really. When nearly all the dancers were
down in the supper-room, we found
ourselves upon a balcony, looking into the
garden. My lips had long been struggling
to disclose my love; and my honour told
me that, at the same moment, I ought to
state fully and unhesitatingly who I was—
what I was. The situation in which we were
unexpectedly placed (was it quite
unexpectedly?) gave eloquence to my tongue:

"Miss Sandford— Emma—" I said, "I
dare not speak to you upon a subject that is
weighing on my heart:, until I have made a
full and honourable disclosure. I am not—I
am not what I seem!"

"Good gracious!" gasped the blushing and
trembling Emma.

"Yes," I continued, "at the same moment
in which I tell you that I love you, I tell you
that I am a—bone-boiler!"

She sank upon a rustic seat, but quickly
recovered herself.

"A bone-boiler?" she muttered in her
sweetest tones, evidently relieved by finding
that I was not, as she had seemingly
expected—a man of crime; "a bone-boiler,
Edwin; and what is that?"

Beautiful simplicity! Troublesome
question!

"Well, dearest," I replied, getting more
confident, now that I had made the revelation,
"I scarcely know, as I go so seldom to the
works; but they boil bones—"

"Works? bones? " she interrupted,
evidently full of some sudden idea. " Speak,
Edwin, tell me—where is this establishment
—this factory? you know what I mean."

"My property, Emma?"

"Yes."

"About three miles out of London, on the
Downham Road."

"Near the church?"

"Near the church."

*Then we are lost!"

"Lost?"

"Yes, Edwin," she returned, in sorrowful
tones, "it is within a stone's throw of my
father's freehold villa; and it is the one
nuisance which embitters his life."

What reply I might have made to this I
can scarcely tell; for, at that moment, Mr.
Sandford, a stately man of severe aspect,
entered the balcony.

"Emma!" he said, sternly to her, as he
frowned at me, "I have been searching for you
everywhere. Wish your aunt good-night."

Emma gave me one tender, sorrowful glance,
and left the place followed by her father.

                               VI.

THE next day was a busy one, at least for
me. I wrote to my manager at the works to
cease operations for several days, and he
replied that this could not be done. He would
boil as little as possible; but boil he must. My
object was to prevent the nuisance being very
obtrusive at the exact moment of my visit to
Mr. Sandford.

I went to the Downham Road, about midday,
and I was shown into Mr. Stanford's
study. There was one large French window
which opened upon an extensive ornamental
garden; and, in the distance, just over the
glass of a conservatory, I saw the two black,
smoking chimneys of rny bone-boiling works.
Under any circumstances my errand was an
excuse for nervousness, and my peculiar
adjacent property did not add to my calmness.

In about five minutes, Mr. Sandford
entered the apartment, very stiff and severe
in his manner, as he motioned me to a
seat.

"Sir," he said, "after the conference
between you and my daughter, which I
interrupted last night, I am not altogether
unaware of the object of your visit. Take
a chair."

This opening was chilling, and calculated
to increase my trepidation, I made no reply.

"Sir," he continued, in a severe tone, "the
first question which a parent very naturally
puts to a gentleman in your position is, What
are his means for supporting a matrimonial
establishment? May I put that question to
you, Mr. Gaz—, Gaz—"

"Mr. Gazelle," I answered.

"Mr. Gazelle?" he inquired.

I was about to reply to this very troublesome,
but fully expected question, when
with fear and horror I observed a dense
volume of smoke issuing from both my
factory chimneys, and I was made painfully
conscious, at the same moment, of a very
disagreeable, not to say sickening effluvium,
which floated towards us over the garden
and through the open doors. I coughed and
moved uneasily in my chair, while Mr. Sandford
lit several pastiles on the mantel-shelf,
and closed the garden window with a hasty
bang.

"Go on," be said, in an excited manner,
"go on; nothing but a Chancery injunction
will stop this. Night or day—it's always the
same. My chrysanthemums withered with
smoke: my family poisoned with effluvium"

"It's very annoying," I said, "but—"

"It's more than annoying, sir," he
interrupted, "it's illegal, sir. They are bound
down never to boil bones when the wind is in
the south, and I only ask you to look at that
weathercock over the conservatory. Look at
it carefully, sir: you may be useful as
evidence."

"That, Mr. Sandford," I said, with attempted
firmness, "I am afraid can never be."

"Sir?" he ejaculated, in astonishment.

"The law of England, sir," I remarked,
"protects a man from incriminating himself."

"You?" said Mr. Sandford, converting his
brow into a tall note of interrogation.

*Yes, sir, I am the proprietor of those