not want to part with him in an unfriendly fashion. Her last
words to Bill Nairne must be such as she herself could think of without
pain. So she rummaged among her Christmas gifts, and found a dancing
Dervish and a brightly-embroidered ball. These she wrapped up with the
letter, and made a small parcel of the whole, after she had added this
postscript: "Please give the enclosed toys as cheap New Year's
playthings to the children. Tell them, if you choose, that they come
from an old friend of papa's, whose name was--Mad."

IV.

Miss West took the letter to the post-office herself after dinner, as
she was going to inquire for a pupil who lived near Carter Hill, and who
was sick--unhappy child!--from holiday junketing. Miss West could not
recover her equanimity till that letter was out of the house. It had
shaken her, satirical and discreet though she was. It had also given her
a guilty sensation towards Miss Sandys. She could not endure that even
the servants should read the address:--"W. Nairne, Esq., Waterloo Lodge,
Bridgeton, Strokeshire," though W. Nairne, Esq., might have stood for
her brother-in-law, her uncle by marriage, or her maternal grandfather
for aught they could tell. She held her hand over the superscription as
if to hide it from herself as she walked along under the newly-risen
moon, as it cast its light on a crisp sprinkling of snow. It was true
Christmas weather at last, and this was something like a Christmas
adventure for her. But not the less did she wish the Christmas ended,
and the moon replaced by gas jets of the smallest size. "A pretty story
for the girls if they should get hold of it," she thought, and
shuddered. She did not recover altogether till she had posted her
packet, and walked half a mile further on. At length she passed through
a creaking gate and a shrubbery, and was shown up to a smart
drawing-room. She was there to ask for the health of Miss Victoria
Middlemass, the daughter of a gentleman who led a country gentleman's
life on the proceeds of a sleeping partnership in a mercantile house in
a large town at some distance.

Mrs. Middlemass came in hurriedly. She had only time to wish Miss West a
merry Christmas and a good New Year, and to announce that Vicky was
quite herself again, except that the bun fever had left her rather pale,
and she had not got back all her appetite. She could not, however, make
the same complaint of Mr. Middlemass, who had just come in ravenously
hung