t crack again.

And at length, when Jos had communicated her vibration to all her
family, and every one had ceased to believe that the confession would
ever end, the confession did end. It ended as it had begun, in an even,
agreeable tenor piping. Emanuel was much too great an artist to allow
himself to be carried away by his emotion. The concluding words were,
"Oh, rapture!" and Emanuel sang them just as if he had been singing
"One-and-eleven-pence three-farthings."

"Oh, rats!" said Jos, under cover of the impassioned applause.

"It was nearly as long as Jarndyce _v_. Jarndyce," observed Adams, under
the same cover.

"What!" cried James, enchanted. "Have you been reading that too?"

Adams Swetnam and great-stepuncle James had quite a little chat on the
subject of Jarndyce _v_. Jarndyce. Several other people, including the
hostess, joined in the conversation, and James was surprised at the
renown which Jarndyce _v._ Jarndyce seemed to enjoy; he was glad to
find his view shared on every hand. He was also glad, and startled, to
discover himself a personality in the regions of Hillport. He went
through more formal introductions in ten minutes than he had been
through during the whole of his previous life. It was a hot evening; he
wiped his brow. Then iced champagne was served to him. Having fluttered
round him, in her ample way, and charmingly flattered him, Mrs. Prockter
left him, encircled chiefly by young women, in order to convey to later
arrivals that they, and they alone, were the authentic objects of her
solicitude. Emanuel Prockter, clad in triumph, approached, and
questioned James, as one shrewd man of business may question another,
concerning the value in the market of Wilbraham Hall.

Shortly afterwards a remarkable occurrence added zest to the party.
Helen had wandered away with Sarah and Jos Swetnam. She reentered the
drawing-room while James and Emanuel were in discussion, and her
attitude towards Emanuel was decidedly not sympathetic. Then Sarah
Swetnam came in alone. And then Andrew Dean came in alone.

"Oh, here's Andrew, Helen!" Sarah exclaimed.

Andrew Dean had the air of a formidable personage. He was a tall, heavy,
dark young man, with immense sloping shoulders, a black moustache, and
incandescent eyes, which he used as though he were somewhat suspicious
of the world in general. If his dress had been less untidy, he would
have made a perfect villain of melodrama. He smiled the unsure smile of