o say, 'Not guilty?' God bless thee, my boy!" cries the
General. "I told thee so, Jack." And he rubbed his hand across his eyes,
and blushed, and wrung George's hand with all his might.

"Not guilty of what, in heaven's name?" asks Mr. Warrington.

"Nay," said the General, "Mr. Jack, here, brought the story. Let him
tell it. I believe 'tis a ------ lie, with all my heart." And uttering
this wicked expression, the General fairly walked out of the room.

The Rev. J. Lambert looked uncommonly foolish.

"And what is this--this d----d lie, sir, that somebody has been telling
of me?" asked George, grinning at the young clergyman.

"To question the courage of any man is always an offence to him," says
Mr. Lambert, "and I rejoice that yours has been belied."

"Who told the falsehood, sir, which you repeated?" bawls out Mr.
Warrington. "I insist on the man's name!"

"You forget you are bound over to keep the peace," says Jack.

"Curse the peace, sir! We can go and fight in Holland. Tell me the man's
name, I say!"

"Fair and softly, Mr. Warrington!" cries the young parson; "my hearing
is perfectly good. It was not a man who told me the story which, I
confess, I imparted to my father."

"What?" asks George, the truth suddenly occurring. "Was it that artful,
wicked little vixen in Bloomsbury Square?"

"Vixen is not the word to apply to any young lady, George Warrington!"
exclaims Lambert, "much less to the charming Miss Lydia. She artful--the
most innocent of Heaven's creatures! She wicked--that angel! With
unfeigned delight that the quarrel should be over--with devout gratitude
to think that blood consanguineous should not be shed--she spoke in
terms of the highest praise of you for declining this quarrel, and of
the deepest sympathy with you for taking the painful but only method of
averting it."

"What method?" demands George, stamping his foot.

"Why, of laying an information, to be sure!" says Mr. Jack; on which
George burst forth into language much too violent for us to repeat here,
and highly uncomplimentary to Miss Lydia.

"Don't utter such words, sir!" cried the parson, who, as it seemed,
now took his turn to be angry. "Do not insult, in my hearing, the most
charming, the most innocent of her sex! If she has been mistaken in her
information regarding you, and doubted your willingness to commit what,
after all, is a crime--for a crime homicide is, and of the most awful
description--you, sir, have no right to