ait for any more formal invitation, but stepped at once over
the frontier; while she, rising from the chair, turned her back towards
me, as with her finger she directed me to the most chaotic assemblage of
knots, twists, loops, and entanglements I ever beheld.

"And you're Burke, I suppose," cried she, as I commenced my labors.

"Yes; I'm Burke."

"Well, I hope you 're done with wildness by this time. Uncle Tony tells
fine tales of your doings."

"Uncle Tony! So you 're Mr. Basset's niece? Is that--"

"You did n't take me for his wife, I hope?" said she, again bursting out
into laughter.

"In truth, I never thought so well of him as to suppose it."

"Well, well, I 'm sure it 's little I expected you to look so mild and
so quiet. But you need n't pinch me, for all that. Is n't your name
Tom?"

"Yes; I hope you 'll always call me so."

"Maybe I will. Is n't that done yet? And there 's the milk bell. Uncle
will be in a nice passion if I 'm not down soon. Cut it,--cut it at
once."

"Now do be patient for a minute or two; it's all right if you stay
quiet. I 'll try my teeth on it."

"Yes; but you needn't try your lips too," said she, tartly.

"Why, it 's the only plan to get your fingers out of the way. I 'm sure
I never was so puzzled in all my life."

"Nothing like practice, my boy,--nothing," cried a merry voice from the
door behind me, half choked with laughing; while a muttered anathema, in
a deeper tone, followed. I looked back, and there stood Bubbleton, his
face florid with laughter, endeavoring to hold back Mr. Basset, whose
angry look and flashing eye there was no mistaking.

"Mr. Burke,--Burke, I say! Nelly, what does this mean? How came this
young gentleman--"

"As to that," said I, interrupting him, and my blood somewhat chafed by
his manner, "this piece of trumpery tumbled down when I leaned my arm on
it. I had no idea--"

"No, no; to be sure not," broke in Bubbleton, in an ecstasy. "The thing
was delicious; such a bit of stage effect. She was there, as it might
be, combing her hair, and all that sort of thing; Tom was here, raving
about absence and eternal separation. You are an angry father, or
uncle,--all the same; and I 'm Count Neitztachenitz, the old friend and
brother officer of Tom's father. Now, let Miss Nelly--But where is she?
Why, she's gone! Eh, and Basset? Basset! Why, he 's gone! Come, Tom,
don't you go too. I say, my boy, devilish well got up that. You ought
to have had a wh