ect it? Who _was_ the girl? What was the secret of Mrs.
Farnaby's extraordinary interest in her--Mrs. Farnaby, whose marriage
was childless; whose interest one would have thought should be naturally
concentrated on her adopted daughter, her sister's orphan child? In
conjectures such as these, I completely lost myself. Let me hear
what your ingenuity can make of the puzzle; and let me return to Mr.
Farnaby's dinner, waiting on Mr. Farnaby's table.

The servant threw open the drawing-room door, and the most honoured
guest present led Mrs. Farnaby to the dining-room. I roused myself
to some observation of what was going on about me. No ladies had been
invited; and the men were all of a certain age. I looked in vain for the
charming niece. Was she not well enough to appear at the dinner-party? I
ventured on putting the question to Mr. Farnaby.

"You will find her at the tea-table, when we return to the drawing-room.
Girls are out of place at dinner-parties." So he answered me--not very
graciously.

As I stepped out on the landing, I looked up; I don't know why, unless
I was the unconscious object of magnetic attraction. Anyhow, I had
my reward. A bright young face peeped over the balusters of the upper
staircase, and modestly withdrew itself again in a violent hurry.
Everybody but Mr. Farnaby and myself had disappeared in the dining-room.
Was she having a peep at the young Socialist?

Another interruption to my letter, caused by another change in the
weather. The fog has vanished; the waiter is turning off the gas, and
letting in the drab-coloured daylight. I ask him if it is still raining.
He smiles, and rubs his hands, and says, "It looks like clearing up
soon, sir." This man's head is gray; he has been all his life a waiter
in London--and he can still see the cheerful side of things. What native
strength of mind cast away on a vocation that is unworthy of it!

Well--and now about the Farnaby dinner. I feel a tightness in the lower
part of my waistcoat, Rufus, when I think of the dinner; there was
such a quantity of it, and Mr. Farnaby was so tyrannically resolute in
forcing his luxuries down the throats of his guests. His eye was on me,
if I let my plate go away before it was empty--his eye said "I have paid
for this magnificent dinner, and I mean to see you eat it." Our printed
list of the dishes, as they succeeded each other, also informed us of
the varieties of wine which it was imperatively necessary to drink w