lessons at half a crown an hour.

"I wouldn't be like 'im for worlds," said Mr. Silk, with a scornful
laugh. "I'd sooner be like anybody."

"What have you been saying to him?" inquired Nugent.

"Nothing," replied Miss Kybird; "he's often like that. He's got a nasty,
miserable, jealous disposition. Not that I mind what he thinks."

Mr. Silk breathed hard and looked from one to the other.

"Perhaps he'll grow out of it," said Nugent, hopefully. "Cheer up,
Teddy. You're young yet."

"Might I arsk," said the solemnly enraged Mr. Silk, "might I arsk you not
to be so free with my Christian name?"

"He doesn't like his name now," said Nugent, drawing his chair closer to
Miss Kybird's, "and I don't wonder at it. What shall we call him? Job?
What's that work you're doing? Why don't you get on with that fancy
waistcoat you are doing for me?"

Before Miss Kybird could deny all knowledge of the article in question
her sorely tried swain created a diversion by rising. To that simple act
he imparted an emphasis which commanded the attention of both beholders,
and, drawing over to Miss Kybird, he stood over her in an attitude at
once terrifying and reproachful.

"Take your choice, Amelia," he said, in a thrilling voice. "Me or 'im--