could have snorted, or the rector have rapped out an uncomplimentary
adjective, the duchess would have felt cheered. As it was, a fixed
and settled melancholy lay upon her spirit until she saw in a
dealer's list an advertisement of a prize macaw, warranted a grand
talker, with a vocabulary of over five hundred words.

The duchess went immediately to town, paid a visit to the dealer,
heard a few of the macaw's words and the tone in which he said them,
bought him on the spot, and took him down to Overdene. The first
evening he sat crossly on the perch of his grand new stand,
declining to say a single one of his five hundred words, though the
duchess spent her evening in the hall, sitting in every possible
place; first close to him; then, away in a distant corner; in an
arm-chair placed behind a screen; reading, with her back turned,
feigning not to notice him; facing him with concentrated attention.
Tommy merely clicked his tongue at her every time she emerged from a
hiding-place; or, if the rather worried butler or nervous under-
footman passed hurriedly through the hall, sent showers of kisses
after them, and then went into fits of ventriloquial laughter. The
duchess, in despair, even tried reminding him in a whisper of the
remarks he had made in the shop; but Tommy only winked at her and
put his claw over his beak. Still, she enjoyed his flushed and
scarlet appearance, and retired to rest hopeful and in no wise
regretting her bargain.

The next morning it became instantly evident to the house-maid who
swept the hall, the footman who sorted the letters, and the butler
who sounded the breakfast gong, that a good night's rest had
restored to Tommy the full use of his vocabulary. And when the
duchess came sailing down the stairs, ten minutes after the gong had