s something not altogether
flattering in the high rebound of his elastic youth; but, as Miss
Bishop was careful to point out, his joyous presence would have a most
salutary effect in disturbing that prosaic sense of security in which
gentlemen's affections have been known to sleep.

But Spinks was destined to serve the object of his infatuation in yet
another way.

It was in the second spring after Rickman's engagement. Flossie and
Ada were in the drawing-room one half hour before dinner, putting
their heads together over a new fashion-book.

"Shouldn't wonder," said Miss Bishop, "if you saw me coming out in one
of these Gloriana coats this spring. I shall get a fawn. Fawn's my
colour."

"I must say I love blue. I think I'm almost mad about blue; any shade
of blue, I don't care what it is. I know I can't go wrong about a
colour. But then there's the style--" Flossie's fingers turned over
the pages with soft lingering touches, while her face expressed the
gravest hesitation. "Keith likes me best in these stiff tailor-made
things; but I can't bear them. I like more of a fancy style."

"I see you do," said Miss Bishop solemnly.

"Yes, that's because she's a bit of a fancy article herself," murmured
a voice from the back drawing-room, where Mr. Spinks had concealed
himself behind a curtain, and now listened with a voluptuous sense of
unlawful initiation.

"I sy, we shall have to stop, if he _will_ keep on listening that
wy."

"Don't stop, please, Miss Ada. There, I've got my fingers in my ears.
On my honour, I have. You can talk as many secrets as you like now. I
can't hear a word."

The two girls dropped their voices to a low impassioned monotone.

"You've got to dress for somebody else besides yourself now--an
engaged young lady."

"Oh, I don't know that he takes so much notice. But he's given me lots
of things, besides my ring. I'm to have a real silver belt--a
Russian--next birthday."

"I sy, he's orf'ly good to you, you know. Some gentlemen get so
careless once they're sure of you. D'you know, we all think you acted
so honourable, giving out your engagement as soon as it was on. When
do you think you'll be married?"

"I can't say. I don't know yet. Never, I think, as long as I'm in that
old Bank."

Even with his fingers in his ears, young Sidney heard that voice, and
before he could stop himself he was listening again.

"Don't you like it?" said Miss Bishop.

"No. I hate it."

Spinks gave a cou