came home with his notes, and
found Rosa beaming in a crisp peignoir, and her lovely head its natural
size and shape, high-bred and elegant. He sat down, and with her hand
in his proceeded to describe the houses to her, when a waiter threw open
the door--"Mrs. John Cole."

"Florence!" cried Rosa, starting up.

In flowed Florence: they both uttered a little squawk of delight,
and went at each other like two little tigresses, and kissed in swift
alternation with a singular ardor, drawing their crests back like
snakes, and then darting them forward and inflicting what, to the male
philosopher looking on, seemed hard kisses, violent kisses, rather than
the tender ones to be expected from two tender creatures embracing each
other.

"Darling," said Rosa, "I knew you would be the first. Didn't I tell you
so, Christopher?--My husband--my darling Florry! Sit down, love, and
tell me everything; he has just been looking out for a house. Ah!
you have got all that over long ago: she has been married six months.
Florry, you are handsomer than ever; and what a beautiful dress! Ah!
London is the place. Real Brussels, I declare," and she took hold of her
friend's lace and gloated on it.

Christopher smiled good-naturedly, and said, "I dare say you ladies have
a good deal to say to each other."

"Oceans," said Rosa.

"I will go and hunt houses again."

"There's a good husband," said Mrs. Cole, as soon as the door closed
on him, "and such a fine man! Why, he must be six feet. Mine is rather
short. But he is very good; refuses me nothing. My will is law."

"That is all right--you are so sensible; but I want governing a little,
and I like it--actually. Did the dressmaker find it, dear?"

"Oh, no! I had it by me. I bought it at Brussels on our wedding tour: it
is dearer there than in London."

She said this as if "dearer" and "better" were synonymous.

"But about your house, Rosie dear?"

"Yes, darling, I'll tell you all about it. I never saw a moire
this shade before. I don't care for them in general; but this is so
distingue."

Florence rewarded her with a kiss.

"The house," said Rosa. "Oh, he has seen one in Portman Street, and one
in Gloucester Place."

"Oh, that will never do," cried Mrs. Cole. "It is no use being a
physician in those out-of-the-way places. He must be in Mayfair."

"Must he?"

"Of course. Besides, then my Johnnie can call him in when they are just
going to die. Johnnie is a general prac., and ma