'What a libel! Put your finger into my waistbelt. Your thumb, if you like-I insist upon it. Now apologize.'

It is elastic,' said the Rector gravely. 'I had thought it was leather.'

“

'It is leather!' exclaimed Lucy indignantly.

Come, I had you there,' observed the Rector complacently. 'She really thought I was in earnest. Please to score one for me, Amy, will you, my dear, in case I should forget it?'

'You won't forget it,' cried Lucy, compelled, though conscious of defeat, to join in her father's mirth. It will be your only victory.'

'You have put it down, my dear Amy, have you?' reiterated the Rector, ignoring his daughter's sarcasm; because it's important.'

'My dear Percy, how can you be so silly? exclaimed his wife reprovingly; 'I don't know which of you two is the greatest baby.'

At this moment the door opened; there was a rustling of some stiff material, of I know not what sort, but presumably not canvas, and in sailed a majestic young woman. At the sight of her, the faces of the two delinquents assumed that unnatural gravity-in his case the supposititious child of some irregular Greek verb-which overspreads the schoolboy's countenance on the sudden appearance of the pedagogue, and, save that the Rector murmured Dr. Busby,' under his breath, the atmosphere of the breakfast-room at once lost its levity.

Clara Thorne was a magnificent young woman, whom no one dreamt of calling a girl, though in the eyes of the law she was still an infant. She stood five feet ten in her-well, without her-sboes; and, unlike most young ladies of the same height and age, had no resemblance to a Maypole. Her well-developed figure was, for the present, faultless. Her complexion was exquisitely delicate, soft, and pure as cream, with the least touch of pink showing through it. Her hair, of much lighter brown than her sister's, was luxuriant and very long. There was a rumour-unsupported, however, by any trustworthy evidence -that she could sit upon it. Her eyes were gray and full of grave intelligence. She was chary of her smiles, which, moreover, were always reserved for the individual, not wasted on the public like mere largesse; but when she did smile, one felt one had earned something-the approbation of royalty. In her appearance, her manners, her movements she was indeed queenlike; no other word could express it, and she felt-for, indeed, though she had neither land nor wealth, all about her were her subjects-every inch a queen. If some Lord of Burleigh had won her, 'the burthen of an honour to which she was not born' would never have incommoded her. Her case, indeed, was quite

the contrary of that of the lady of the ballad; her nature was too ample and majestic for her modest surroundings. Had they been more humble, it would have only made the disproportion the greater, not detracted from her supremacy. Independence of character, based upon consciousness of natural superiority, is rare in women; and, when it exists, it involves certain drawbacks, and Clara Thorne was not without them.

With the stateliness of a three-decker she made the circuit of the breakfast-room, touching, as it were, at its three ports, and saluting each in a different fashion. Her mother she kissed affectionately, bestowed on Lucy a patronizing pat upon the head, and gravely pressed her lips, as though affixing a seal to some legal document, to her father's forehead.

'Have the letters come?' she inquired.

'The Duchess,' alias 'Juno,' alias Dr. Busby,' for by all these titles she was known, though never addressed, in the family circle, was generally late for prayers, often for breakfast, but rarely for the postman. Correspondence always interested her. She took a greater interest in the world outside than did her parents or her sister; but on the present occasion a note of unusual concern pervaded her dulcet tones.

It is nearly time for them, my dear,' responded Mrs. Thorne apologetically. 'Poor Saunders has a long round to make, and the new parcels post, though very convenient, delays him sadly.' 'He should get a tricycle,' observed Clara severely.

'I wonder that has not struck him,' remarked the Rector, with sly simplicity. 'It would not cost him above twelve or thirteen pounds at most.'

If there is any difficulty about the cost,' continued Clara, 'the Government, of course, would defray it.'

'No doubt.'

'Then why do you not write to the Postmaster-General, papa ?' This was carrying the war into the enemy's country, indeed. The Rector had not been able to resist his little sarcasm, at which his wife had shaken her head in disapproval behind the urn, and Lucy had bitten her lip to restrain the tell-tale mirth; and now, without allies he had evoked an adversary with whom he was wholly unequal to deal.

'But what would Saunders do with his tricycle when he got to the Bridge Hill, my dear Clara?' he inquired, with gentle conciliation.

'He would lead it,' was the uncompromising rejoinder.

To most people who knew the Bridge Hill-it could be seen from the veranda rising very steeply to the height of five hundred feet and also Saunders, a person of considerable bulk, with bow legs, the suggestion of a tricycle for the postman of Mirbridge would have seemed unpractical; but the Duchess,'

like Buonaparte, had a habit, when she wanted anything done, of cancelling from her dictionary the word 'impossible.' If Nature had given her powers in proportion to her will, she would have followed the example of Xerxes and levelled the hill. A discreet silence followed her last observation, till it was broken by the sharp and cheery sound of the post-horn. There was but one blast of it, for Saunders had no breath to spare for what he prosaically termed 'tootling;' but the last echo of it had hardly died away among the hills before the maid brought in the bag.

Not a word was said, though every eye was fixed on it as the Rector fumbled in his pocket for the key. It was said of him by some good-natured friend that nothing was ever in the right place with Percival Thorne except his heart, and it was certainly true that he had a habit of mislaying things. That he was always quite certain that he had not mislaid them, but that they ought to be where they were not, imposed on none of his household. Before he had done protesting, Lucy generally found the missing article; she had the instinct of the divining rod for such mysteries, combined with the swiftness of an Ariel.

On the present occasion the Rector had not lost his key, but only left it upstairs, where Lucy found it, on his dressing-table. In the meantime he passed a bad quarter of a minute, under the concentrated focus of Clara's majestic eyes. His indignation at the key having got under the lining of his pocket was expressed with less than his usual vigour of conviction; even his wife he perceived was a Sadducee. On any other morning she would have suggested something helpful; but, like the rest, she was impatient for the contents of this particular letter-bag. At last it was emptied on the breakfast-table.

'There it is!' cried Lucy, her quick eye lighting on the expected missive. She clapped her hands with excitement.

Clara smiled compassionately, almost contemptuously, as though she would have said, 'My dear child, why this enthusiasm? What has the matter to do with you?' Even Mrs. Thorne, generally so placidly imperturbable, murmured, 'Now we shall know.'

The Rector opened the letter, adjusted his glasses (brought out from his waistcoat pocket only on great occasions, like the sword of the Corporation of London), and exclaimed, after one glance at the contents:

'Good heavens! They are coming this morning!'

CHAPTER II.

THE CLOUD.

THIS morning?' echoed the Rector's wife in astonishment. 'What, before anyone is at the Hall to meet them?' exclaimed Lucy.

'Perhaps papa would be so good as to read the letter aloud, that we may learn what has really happened,' observed Clara.

The observation was not complimentary to the Rector's intelligence, but it was made without disrespect. The Duchess had made up her mind that the parties in question would adopt a certain course of procedure, and it seemed, therefore, incredible to her that they should have pursued another.

I cannot do that, Clara,' returned the Rector mildly, 'because the communication is marked "Private." It is not from her ladyship, my dear Amy,' he continued, so you need not be jealous; but from Sir Richard.'

This little attempt at pleasantry, though doubtless well meant, was very ill-received indeed. There is a time for joking, but also a time for abstaining from it-such, for instance, as one of universal disappointment, which was the present case. The Rector's joke fell as flat as if it had been laid on the table of the General Assembly at Holyrood.

'Do you mean to say there will be no gathering at the Court to-day at all?' inquired Clara, with the air of one who is ready to hear the worst.

'Just so; that is the very thing they object to.'

'Who objects to it?'

'Sir Richard-that is to say, he does so on behalf of his wife.'

The three ladies exchanged glances of great significance. It is recorded of an English traveller, much importuned upon his private affairs by an American citizen, that he agreed with him, upon condition that no more questions were asked, to state candidly how he came to lose his arm. He then said, 'It was bit off. The effect upon his interlocutor was similar to that which the Rector's disclosure had upon his audience; it only gave their curiosity a still keener edge.

Is Lady Trevor, then, in bad health?' inquired Mrs. Thorne. There was sympathy in her tone, because it was impossible for one so kind to banish it from such a question; but sympathy was not its keynote.

'There is no actual illness, but Sir Richard hints at a constitutional delicacy, which renders all scenes of excitement prejudicial to her.'

'This is the first time we have heard of it,' observed Clara, in sarcastic disapproval.

The poor Rector shrugged his shoulders, as though to shift from them the responsibility of her ladyship's state of health.

'Are they all coming home together, papa ?' inquired Lucy. 'Not all; at least, Sir Richard only mentions Hugh as accompanying them. Charles, I suppose, remains in town pursuing his legal studies.'

It suddenly struck the Rector that he was undergoing a crossexamination at the hands of these unlearned counsel about the contents of a communication that was private and confidential, and ought to have been privileged.

'I must really go at once to Farmer Austin,' he exclaimed, rising from his chair; 'he has been getting up his little speech on behalf of the tenantry for the last fortnight, and I must relieve his mind from its unnecessary strain. It will be a great disappointment, I know, to the rest of them-Lucy dear, my coat and hat-who had promised themselves the pleasure of hearing him break down.'

'But the poor people!' observed Mrs. Thorne compassionately.

'Oh, the festivities in the marquee are to be carried out according to the programme; only there is to be no deputation to the Court.'

'It is very strange,' murmured the Rector's wife; 'why did they not think of all this before?'

'Perhaps that was my fault, my dear. I took it for granted that they would expect something of the kind, and never wrote about it till my last letter, to which this is the reply; Sir Richard, having lived so long abroad, has doubtless forgotten our old English custom.'

His going abroad at all seems to have been a great mistake,' sighed Mrs. Thorue.

No doubt, no doubt,' assented the Rector. 'Lucy, my umbrella. You may count upon my presence at luncheon, my dears, when I shall no doubt have seen the new-comers, and be better able to satisfy your natural and legitimate curiosity.'

This parting speech, so full of conciliation, was received in frigid silence. To respect the confidence even of a man one has never seen, and of whom one has heard but little to his advantage, is, of course, only right and proper; but there are more sacred duties towards one's own flesh and blood-such, for example, as when they are athirst for information to gratify it. The three ladies, although in different degrees, all felt aggrieved.

I suppose, at least, that it will not be considered an intrusion for the Rector's wife and daughters to call at the Hall