ond; "it doesn't often happen, and breaks
no bones when it does. It's only the ignorance of the woman, and
small blame to her--as Mrs. M'Kinnon said when Corporal Sims's wife
threw the red herring's tail at her!"

"But does Julius stand it?" repeated Tom, fiercely, as if hesitating
whether to call out Julius or Mrs. Charnock Poynsett.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Tom! I'd rather stand a whole shower of
red herrings' tails at once than bother Julius about his brother's
wife. How would you and Terry like it, if your wives took to
squabbling, and setting you together by the ears? I was demented
enough to try it once, but I soon saw it was worse than anything."

"What? He took her part?"

"No such thing! Hold your tongue, Tommy, and don't talk of married
folk till you're one yourself!"

"Papa never meant it," repeated the indignant Tom. "I've a great
mind to write and tell him how you are served!"

"Now, Tom," cried Rosamond, stopping short, "if you do that, I
solemnly declare I'll never have you here again! What could papa
do? Do you think he could cure Raymond's wife of being a ridiculous
little prig? And if he could--why, before your letter got to
Meerut, she will be gone up to London; and by the time she comes
back we'll be safe in our own Rectory. Here, come in, and get our
string and basket at Mrs. Bungay's."

"I'll pay her out!" muttered Tom, as he followed his sister into
Mrs. Bungay's shop, one of much smaller pretensions, for the sale of
baskets, brushes, mats, &c.

The mistress, a stout, red-faced woman, looked as if she had been
'speaking a bit of her mind,' and was at first very gruff and
ungracious, until she found they were real customers; and moreover,
Tom's bland Irish courtesy perfectly disarmed her, when Rosamond,
having fixed her mind on a box in the very topmost pigeon-hole, they
not only apologized for the trouble they were giving, but Tom
offered to climb up and bring it down, when she was calling for the
errand-boy in vain.

"It's no trouble, sir, thank you; I'd think nothing of that for you,
my lady, nor for Mr. Charnock--which I'm sure I'll never forget all
he did for us at the fire, leading my little Alferd out like a lamb!
I beg your ladyship's pardon, ma'am, if I seemed a bit hasty; but
I've been so put about--and I thought at first you'd come in on the
same matter, which I'm sure a lady like you wouldn't ever do--about
the drains, and such like, which isn't fit for no lady t