ification in the manner of his servant.
The man was extremely polite and attentive, suggesting various
refreshments, such as wine and biscuits, and I never was treated by a
lackey with more respect.

Leaning back in a comfortable chair, I sipped my coffee and puffed
away at a perfectly delightful Havana cigar. "Cathay is not a bad
place," said I, to myself. "Its hospitality is a little queer, but as
to gorgeousness, luxury, and----" I was about to add another quality
when my mind was diverted by a light step on the piazza, and, turning
my head, I beheld the young lady I had seen before. Instantly I rose
and laid aside my cigar.

"Please do not disturb yourself," she said. "I simply came out to give
a little message from my father. Sit down again, and I will take this
seat for a moment. My father's health is delicate," she said, "and we
do not like him to be out in the night air, especially after a rain.
So I came in his stead to tell you that if you would like to come into
the house you must do so without the slightest hesitation, because my
mother and I do not mind that dressing-gown any more than if it were
an ordinary coat. We are very glad to have the opportunity of
entertaining you, for we know some people in Walford--not very many,
but some--and we have heard you and your school spoken of very
highly. So we want you to make yourself perfectly at home, and come in
or sit out here, just as your own feelings in regard to extraordinary
fine clothes shall prompt you."

At this she reassured me as to the beauty of her teeth. "As long as
you will sit out here," said I, to myself, "there will be no in-doors
for me."

She seemed to read my thoughts, and said: "If you will go on with your
smoking, I will wait and ask you some things about Walford. I dearly
love the smell of a good cigar, and father never smokes. He always
keeps them, however, in case of gentlemen visitors."

She then went on to talk about some Walford people, and asked me if I
knew Mary Talbot. I replied in the affirmative, for Miss Talbot was a
member of our literary society, and the young lady informed me that
Mary Talbot had a brother in my school--a fact of which I was aware to
my sorrow--and it was on account of this brother that she had first
happened to see me.

"See me!" I exclaimed, with surprise.

"Yes," said she. "I drove over to the village one day this spring, and
Mary and I were walking past your school-house, and the door was wide
o