rs. Farnaby asked questions, plainly showing that
the forlorn hope which she associated with Amelius was a hope still
firmly rooted in her mind. "Have you been much about London lately?"
"Have you met with any girls who have taken your fancy?" "Are you
getting tired of staying in the same place, and are you going to travel
soon?" Inquiries such as these she was, sooner or later, sure to make
when they were alone. But if Regina happened to enter the room, or
if Amelius contrived to find his way to her in some other part of the
house, Mrs. Farnaby deliberately shortened the interview and silenced
the lovers--still as resolute as ever to keep Amelius exposed to the
adventurous freedom of a bachelor's life. For the last week, his only
opportunities of speaking to Regina had been obtained for him secretly
by the well-rewarded devotion of her maid. And he had now the prospect
before him of asking Mr. Farnaby for the hand of his adopted daughter,
with the certainty of the influence of two women being used against
him--even if he succeeded in obtaining a favourable reception for his
proposal from the master of the house.

Under such circumstances as these--alone, on a rainy November day, in
a lodging on the dreary eastward side of the Tottenham Court Road--even
Amelius bore the aspect of a melancholy man. He was angry with his cigar
because it refused to light freely. He was angry with the poor deaf
servant-of-all-work, who entered the room, after one thumping knock
at the door, and made, in muffled tones, the barbarous announcement,
"Here's somebody a-wantin' to see yer."

"Who the devil is Somebody?" Amelius shouted.

"Somebody is a citizen of the United States," answered Rufus, quietly
entering the room. "And he's sorry to find Claude A. Goldenheart's
temperature at boiling-point already!"

He had not altered in the slightest degree since he had left the
steamship at Queenstown. Irish hospitality had not fattened him;
the change from sea to land had not suggested to him the slightest
alteration in his dress. He still wore the huge felt hat in which he
had first presented himself to notice on the deck of the vessel. The
maid-of-all-work raised her eyes to the face of the long lean stranger,
overshadowed by the broadbrimmed hat, in reverent amazement. "My love
to you, miss," said Rufus, with his customary grave cordiality; _"I'll_
shut the door." Having dismissed the maid with that gentle hint, he
shook hands heartily with