recious sight better looking than the countesses.'"

"Where is Mr. Eccles?"

"I saw him waltzing, sir, or maybe it was the polka, with Madame
Robineau just as I was coming up to you."

"I'll go down and tell Mr. Cleremont to dismiss his friends," cried
I, boiling over with anger. "Papa meant this _fete_ to celebrate my
birthday. I 'll not accept such rabble congratulations. If Mr. Cleremont
must have an orgie, let him seek for another place to give it in."

"Don't go, master, don't, I entreat you," cried he, imploringly. "You
'll only make a row, sir, and bring down Sir Roger, and then who's to
say what will happen? He 'll have a dozen duels on his hands in half as
many minutes. The officers won't stand being called to account, and Sir
Roger is not the man to be sweet-tempered with them."

"And am I to see my father's name insulted, and his house dishonored by
such a canaille crew as this?"

"Just come down and see them, Master Digby; prettier, nicer girls you
never saw in your life, and pretty behaved, too. Ask Mr. Eccles if he
ever mixed with a nicer company. There, now, sir, slip on your velvet
jacket,--it looks nicer than that tail-coat,--and come down. They 'll be
all proud and glad to see you, and won't she hold her head high that you
ask to take a turn of a waltz with you!"

"And how should I face my father to-morrow?" said I, blushing deeply.

"Might I tell you a secret, Master Digby?" said he, leaning over the
table, and speaking almost in my ear.

"Go on," said I, dryly.

"I know well, sir, you 'll never throw me over, and what I 'm going to
tell you is worth gold to you."

"Go on," cried I, for he had ceased to speak.

"Here it is, then," said he, with an effort "The greatest sorrow your
father has, Master Digby, is that he thinks you have no spirit in
you,--that you 're a mollyoot. As he said one day to Mr. Cleremont, 'You
must teach him everything, he has no "go" in himself; there 's nothing
in his nature but what somebody else put into it.'"

"He never said that!"

"I pledge you my oath he did."

"Well, if he did, he meant it very differently from what you do."

"There's no two meanings to it. There's a cheer!" cried he, running over
to the window and flinging it wide. "I wonder who's come now? Oh, it's
the fireworks are beginning."

"I 'll go down," said I; but out of what process of reasoning came that
resolve I am unable to tell.

"Maybe they won't be glad to see you!" cried he, as