and, as is not unfrequently the case with men of a certain (or uncertain) temperament, he turned the first current of his vexation upon the unfortunate messenger.

"You are very ill-bred, sir. How dare you come into my office without knocking at the door? Don't answer me, sir: you are going to say that you did knock, I know; and I tell you, you did not. What do you stand staring at me for, sir? Why don't you speak?"

"You told me not to speak, sir," said Robert.

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Why are you waiting, then?”

"To know what I am to say to Mr. Rivers, sir."

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Why did you not tell him I was not at home, you blockhead? You know I don't choose to be seen by everybody when I am busy in my office." A strong emphasis on "my office."

"Not by Mr. Rivers, sir?"

"No, not by Mr. Rivers, unless I choose."

"I didn't know, sir, I am sure," said the perplexed footman "I thought—but I can say now that you are engaged, sir."

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Yes, tell him so; but no, that won't do either. Where did you leave Mr. Rivers?"

"In the reception-room, sir."

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Very well; I will see Mr. Rivers in the reception-room, then. Go back and tell him I will be with him directly; and Robertdo you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wait in the hall, and be ready, when I ring, to open the door for Mr. Rivers."

Roger Gilbert was more agitated than he would have cared to acknowledge; and some little time elapsed before he could screw up courage enough to encounter his unexpected visitor. "It must be done, however,” he said; and, hastily opening a ceilaret which stood in a corner of his office, he poured out a glass of wine and drank it off. He would do now: it made a man of him

again; so he felt within himself, as, wiping his lips, he passed on to the reception-room.

Robert the footman was curious, and had good ears; and having been ordered to remain near the door, what could he do better than listen? Not much reached him, however, for the door was fast closed, and the voices within were low and guarded. Once or twice, indeed, they rose higher, and the listener fancied that his master and Henry Rivers were "pretty peppery," as he afterwards said; but nothing came of it.

Half an hour-an hour-passed away, and Robert, tired of eaves-dropping where nothing could be heard but a confused sound of unintelligible words, was seriously thinking of quitting his post, when the bell loudly rang; and before he could lay his hand on the handle of the door it was opened from within, and the visitor, as he stood on the threshold, turned round and addressed these last words to his host, very mournfully :

:

"I have nothing more to say, Mr. Gilbert: I have no title to say more; but as we may never, most likely shall never meet again

"I'll hear no more, sir; not another word," hastily and angrily retorted the other. "You have presumed a good deal too much, sir, on our old friendship; and you have said things, and made suppositions, you have had no right to say and suppose. I won't hear another word, sir. Robert, the door." And so they parted.

CHAPTER XVII.

THERE IS A SKELETON IN EVERY HOUSE."

"You are quite determined to leave us to-morrow, Harry?" "Quite determined, aunt Prissy. I must put many more miles between Fairbourne Court and myself before I shall be able to

G

breathe freely again. You cannot understand this, I dare say; and will that I am very say foolish to be so moved."

"We have not said so, Harry," said Miss Fleming, gravely. "No, aunt Melly; you are too kind and generous-hearted to say this; but I do not blame you for thinking thus of me.”

"But we do not think so, do we, Prissy?" replied the elder lady. "We see that you have passed through severe discipline to-day; and we are grieved that we cannot lighten your burden by taking a part of it upon ourselves. For we do take that part, Harry."

It was evening; and, much to his discomposure, Mr. Crickett had been desired to postpone the supper-hour indefinitely; also to light a fire in the old parlour, and to draw close the curtains. And he had been heard to mutter, as he reluctantly obeyed these eccentric orders, that such goings on would not do for him long, for rules was rules, and what was the use of having rules if they wasn't to be kept to?

This passed, however, and the two ladies, with Harry Rivers, had drawn up to the fire.

It was not a very large party, nor a jovial party, nor even a cheerful party; that is the truth. For Harry had returned to the Priory some hours before, in fuming anger against Mr. Gilbert, and Jason Brooke, and all and sundry, save and except Clara, whom, as he told his morning adventures to his two kindhearted relatives, he persisted in calling "poor Clara," and "dear Clara," until, I dare say, they were as tired of the subject as you or I should have been, reader. Moreover, he insisted that he could not eat, which aunt Prissy declared was a very bad sign, and which Mr. Crickett noticed with silent curiosity; and so the dinner-hour passed heavily away, with two or three hours afterwards; and it was not till the curtains were drawn, and the fire was blazing, and the evening lamp was lighted, that Harry's tongue was again unloosed, and he declared his intention of