use, only nerves himself for fresh
failures.

Nature, having been unprodigal to him in the matter of height, makes up
for it generously in the matter of breadth, with such lavish generosity,
indeed, that he feels the time has come when, with tears in his eyes, he
must say "no" to his bitter beer.

His chum, Mr. Longshanks (commonly called "Daddy Longlegs," on account
of the length of his lower limbs), is his exact counterpart, being as
silent as the other is talkative; seldom exerting himself, indeed, to
shine in conversation, or break the mysterious quiet that envelops him,
except when he faithfully (though unsmilingly) helps out his friend's
endeavors at wit, by saying "ha! ha!" when occasion calls for it. He
has a red nose that is rather striking and suggests expense. He has
also a weakness for gaudy garments, and gets himself up like a showy
commercial traveler.

They are both related in some far-off manner to their host, though how,
I believe, both he and they would be puzzled to explain. Still, the
relationship beyond dispute is there, which is everything. _Enfin_
they are harmless beings, such as come in useful for padding purposes
in country houses during the winter and autumn seasons, being,
according to their friends' account, crack shots, "A1 at billiards,"
and "beggars to ride."

It is four o'clock. The house is almost deserted. All the men have been
shooting since early morning. Only Molly and Marcia remain in
possession of the sitting-room that overlooks the graveled walk, Mrs.
Darley having accompanied Mr. Amherst in his customary drive.

The sound of wheels coming quickly down the avenue compels Molly to
glance up from the book she is enjoying.

"Somebody is coming," she says to Marcia; and Marcia, rising with more
alacrity than is her wont, says, "It must be Lady Stafford," and goes
into the hall to receive her guest. Molly, full of eager curiosity to
see this cousin of Tedcastle's whose story has so filled her with
interest, rises also, and cranes her neck desperately round the corner
of the window to try and catch a glimspe of her, but in vain, the
unfriendly porch prevents her, and, sinking back into her seat, she is
fain to content herself by listening to the conversation that is going
on in the hall between Marcia and the new arrival.

"Oh, Marcia, is that you?" says a high, sweet voice, with a little
complaining note running through it, and then there is a pause,
evidently filled up by an