ve him; but I told him I cared for
him, and he said he loved me. And I let him kiss me. Good-night, Mr.
Wynne."

I sat still and silent. Newhaven came across to us. Trix put out her
hand and caught him by the sleeve.

"Fred," she said, "my dear honest old Fred, you love me, don't you?"

Newhaven, much embarrassed and surprised, looked at me in alarm. But
her hand was in his now, and her eyes imploring him.

"I should rather think I did, my dear," said he.

I really hope that Lord and Lady Newhaven will not be very unhappy,
while Mrs. Ives quite worships her husband, and is convinced that she
eclipsed the brilliant and wealthy Miss Queenborough. Perhaps she
did--perhaps not. There are, as I have said, great qualities in the
curate of Poltons, but I have not quite made up my mind precisely what
they are. I ought, however, to say that Dora takes a more favorable
view of him and a less lenient view of Trix than I. That is perhaps
natural. Besides, Dora does not know the precise manner in which the
curate was refused. By the way, he preached next Sunday on the text,
"The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the
children of light."

A THREE-VOLUME NOVEL

It was, I believe, mainly as a compliment to me that Miss Audrey Liston
was asked to Poltons. Miss Liston and I were very good friends, and my
cousin Dora Polton thought, as she informed me, that it would be nice
for me to have someone I could talk to about "books and so on." I did
not complain. Miss Liston was a pleasant young woman of six-and-twenty;
I liked her very much except on paper, and I was aware that she made it
a point of duty to read something at least of what I wrote. She was in
the habit of describing herself as an "authoress in a small way." If it
were pointed out that six three-volume novels in three years (the term
of her literary activity at the time of which I write) could hardly be
called "a small way." she would smile modestly and say that it was not
really much; and if she were told that the English language embraced no
such word as "authoress," she would smile again and say that it ought
to, a position towards the bugbear of correctness with which, I
confess, I sympathize in some degree. She was very diligent; she worked
from ten to one every day while she was at Poltons; how much she wrote
is between her and her conscience.

There was another impeachment which Miss Liston was hardly at the
trouble to deny. "Take