in the shadow of
the opposite side. He examined the house from this point of vantage. It
was a blaze of light from top to bottom. The balcony on the drawing-room
floor had been roofed in with striped canvas. One of the red curtains
hanging from it was drawn aside; he caught glimpses of moving forms and
bright colours within.

He heard the long-drawn notes of a violin. The ever-opening hall-door
exhibited a brilliant interior, with numberless men-servants conspicuous
upon a scarlet background. Ladies in light wraps had entered the house
from the carriage, and other carriages arriving in quick succession had
disgorged other lovely beings. If the door closed for one instant it
sprang open the next at the sound of wheels.

"I'll walk to the top of the street," Everett determined, "cross over,
and then present myself." But as he again approached with courage
screwed to the sticking-place, a spruce hansom dashed up before him. Two
very "masher" young men sprang out. They stood for a moment laughing
together while one found the fare. The other glanced at Everett, and, as
it seemed to my too sensitive young friend, with a certain amusement.
"Is it possible that this little boy is coming to Lady Charlton's too?"
This at least is the meaning Everett read in an eye probably devoid of
any meaning at all. He felt he could not go in the company of these
gentlemen. He must wait now until they were admitted. So assuming as
unconscious an air as possible he stepped through the band of gaslight,
and was once more swallowed up in the friendly darkness beyond.

"I'll just walk once to the corner and back," said he; but, fresh
obstacle! when he returned, a servant with powdered head swaggered on
the threshold exchanging witticisms with the commissionaire keeping
order outside; and the crimson carpet laid down across the pavement was
fringed with loiterers at either edge, some of whom, as he drew near,
turned to look at him with an expectant air.

It was a moment of exquisite suffering. Should he go in? Should he pass
on? Only those, (and nowadays such are rare) who have themselves gone
through the agonies of shyness can appreciate the situation. As he
reached the full glare of the house-light, Everett's indecision was
visible in his face.

"Lady Charlton's, sir?" queried Jeames.

My poor Everett! His imbecility will scarcely be believed.

"Thanks--no--ah--er!" he stammered feebly; "I am looking for Mr.
Browne's!"

Which was the fi