He looked up as she entered, and smiled; he regarded her as almost as
much his friend as her father; a composite creature, and a necessary
connection between the superior and inferior halves of the household.

"Father not in, I hear," he said.

"No," Julia answered. "What a smell there is!"

Mr. Gillat allowed it. "There's something gone wrong with Bouquet," he
said, thoughtfully regarding the stove.

The "Bouquet Heater" was the name under which it was patented; it did
not seem quite honest to speak of it as a heater, so perhaps "Bouquet"
was the better name.

Julia went to it. "I should think there is," she said, and turned it
up, and turn it down, and altered the wicks, until she had improved
matters a little.

"I'm afraid your father's having larks," Johnny said, watching her.

"It's rather a pity if he is," Julia answered; "he has got to see some
one on business to-morrow."

"Who?"

"Mr. Frazer, a clergyman who wants to marry Violet."

Mr. Gillat sat upright. "Dear, dear!" he exclaimed. "No? Really?" and