and bad fathers; the Syrians were right there. As for you, I hear nothing but good of you; all kinds of good from every one. You will die young, but that is no matter; the good ones always die young,-Cleobis, you know. Make yourself happy here: hear but a word in private. Hold your tongue about what you have heard me say just now. Let it be a secret between us, boy. Dora is in there; go in and find her. Don't fall in love with Anne, mind; she is too much of a Silcote: choose Dora. Go in and keep our secret. Not a word to any soul, or it will come round to Arthur at last: he gets hold of all our secrets in time.”

James felt a little more dazed than he was in the height of the thunderstorm in Bramshill Park. Here was a curious reception after a curious headlong journey. The first average and commonplace incident which befell him during that somewhat remarkable day was his meeting with Dora in the hall. She was commonplace enough, as she always was, for she at once made him stand before the smouldering fire, and spoke to him the words which stand at the beginning of this very chapter.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE MAN IN THE MACKINTOSH,

"AND I," said Dora, " consider that you have improved since that time, immensely, both physically and morally. Other people, as for instance my aunt, may hold the opinion that you are in danger of becoming a very shallow young spark. Miss Lee, whose opinions, 'more particularly when directed and inspired by my uncle Arthur, I am bound to respect, may be of opinion that we are both getting too old to continue our former intimacy. I am not here, however, to combat other people's opinions, so much as to express my own. to tell you the honest and plain truth, James Sugden,

And

I have watched you pretty closely for some years, and I think you will do."

"And you will do in time," said James; "that is, if

you will think before you speak, and when you have made a mistake think again and mend it. Which you don't do now, you know. There, that is flippant enough to suit the Princess. Now, let us be comfortable. How are you, and what's the news?"

"I am very well, and I may have some news, or I may not."

"I have had an astonishment, to-day," said James. "So have I."

"Are you going to trump my trick, as usual?" said James.

Said Dora, "I can't tell till you have played your card."

And then James remembered that he was bound by all rules of honour not to say a word of what had passed between him and the Squire, and so he told her that he could not play his trump.

“Then any small card will do for the trick," said Dora. "I have been utterly astonished at the size and colouring of my grandfather's quilled German asters. Now."

"There is something more than that, Dora, I know.” "I suppose you do, unless you are a goose; but, if

we are to play the great game of astonishment, you shall not hold the trumps in your own hand."

"I can't play my trump, Dora.

I can't tell you

what I have heard in the last twenty minutes. Answer me this. Is there anything wrong in the house?"

Entirely."

'Well, then, I will tell you; and I am very glad we are alone together. I fear there is something very wrong indeed. There has been a long interview between Arthur and his father in the library. Uncle Arthur came out first, looking as pale as a ghost, a deal more like death than life, James, I assure you; and, after a time, grandpapa came out crying,—ay, he did, and sat there before the fire with his head in his hands for I don't know how long."

Why, I saw him sitting so myself," said James. "Did you?" said Dora, “Well, that is an important and valuable fact, supposing any one had the audacity to question my statement. At present we can keep it in reserve. The question is, what is the matter?" "I wonder what it is," said James.

"I suppose you do, unless you have determined to

give up wondering for the rest of your life. I wonder. Any gaby can wonder."

"After all, you know," replied James, "you haven't any right to wonder, because it is no possible business of yours. And you have no right to catch me up so short. I dare say you think that sort of thing very fine, but I don't. I don't approve of it. You are fond of doing it to me when we are alone, but you know you never dare do it before company, for fear of my picking you up. I thought you were going to be comfortable. If this is what you mean, you had better be uncomfortable."

"I am uncomfortable," said poor Dora, stamping her foot, and beginning to cry. "I meant to be so nice to you, and I am so very fond of you

As this is an eminently unsentimental story, I will omit what passed before James and Dora were standing looking out of the window together, perfectly "comfortable." "Paul and Virginia" is not out of print, surely, though I have not seen it lately.

But though Dora was "comfortable" enough with James, she was far from being good company; at least to any one but him. Everything was going wrong, it