gs not to
experience only. At the end of the train was hitched an empty
clay-truck, bound on a return journey to Five Lanes Junction.
Quick as thought the Twins, as Mr. Fogo rushed up to them, caught him
by the coat collar and seat of his trousers, and with one timely
heave sent him flying into this. When he staggered to his feet--
hatless, without spectacles, and besmeared with clay from head to
foot--the train was fifty yards beyond the station. And so, staring
back mournfully at the little group upon the platform, he vanished
from their sight.

"That," said Peter, turning slowly to his brother, "was nibby-gibby."

"Tamsin mou't ha' communicated wi' the guard," responded Paul, "on'y
that, wi'out sufficient reason, wud ha' been not exceedin' saxty
shillin'. Do 'ee think 'twud ha' been held sufficient reason?"

"I dunno. I reckon they mou't ha' made et two-pund-ten, all things
conseddered," said his brother thoughtfully, "but there's no
knawin'."

It is always hateful to say good-bye to friends, and here, with his
leave, the reader shall be left to guess on the later fortunes of
Tamsin and Mr. Fogo, the Twins and Caleb. It may be, if he care, and
the Fates so order it, he shall some day follow them through new
adventures; but it will be far from Troy Town. And for the present
they shall fare as his imagination pleases.

Of Tamsin, however, who is thus left with her good or sorry fortune
before her, something shall be hinted. Public opinion at Troy
condemned her marriage. As Miss Limpenny neatly asked, "If we were
all to marry beneath us, pray where should we stop?" "We should go
on," replied the Admiral, "_ad libitum_." I am inclined to think he
meant "_ad infinitum_;" but the argument is quite as cogent as it
stands.

And yet, since they returned to Kit's House, which they did after an
absence of three years, Mr. and Mrs. Fogo have been called upon by
the _Cumeelfo_. Some months ago the Admiral button-holed me in the
street.

"I say, who are all those people staying with--with your friends? I
mean, the strangers I saw in Church yesterday--a very creditable lot,
upon my word."

"I am glad you approve of them," I answered gravely. "The lady with
the spectacles is Miss Gamma Girton, the Novelist of Agnosticism; the
tall man in black, Thomas Daniel, the critic--"

"Oh, literary people."

"Quite. Then there is Sir Inchcape Bell, the great Engineer; and
Lady Judy Twitchett--her husband (the you