altogether avoid his future brother-in-law, and had agreed to dine with
him on this day.

On that same afternoon Harry, when he left Mr. Beilby's office, went
direct to Bolton Street, that he might call on Lady Ongar. As he went
thither he bethought himself that these Wallikers and the like had had
no such events in life as had befallen him! They laughed at him about
Florence Burton, little guessing that it had been his lot to love, and
to be loved by such a one as Julia Brabazon had been--such a one as Lady
Ongar now was. But things had gone well with him. Julia Brabazon could
have made no man happy, but Florence Burton would be the sweetest,
dearest, truest little wife that ever man took to his home. He was
thinking of this, and determined to think of it more and more daily, as
he knocked at Lady Ongar's door. "Yes; her ladyship was at home," said
the servant whom he had seen on the railway platform; and in a few
moments' time he found himself in the drawing-room which he had
criticized so carefully when he was taking it for its present occupant.

He was left in the room for five or six minutes, and was able to make a
full mental inventory of its contents. It was very different in its
present aspect from the room which he had seen not yet a month since.
She had told him that the apartments had been all that she desired; but
since then everything had been altered, at least in appearance. A new
piano had been brought in, and the chintz on the furniture was surely
new. And the room was crowded with small feminine belongings, indicative
of wealth and luxury. There were ornaments about, and pretty toys, and a
thousand knickknacks which none but the rich can possess, and which none
can possess even among the rich unless they can give taste as well as
money to their acquisition. Then he heard a light step; the door opened,
and Lady Ongar was there.