seat excitedly.

'Bodley race-ball!' he cried; and looking at Lady Jocelyn: 'Was your
ladyship there, then? Why--ha! ha! why, you have seen the Great Mel,
then! That tremendous footman was old Mel himself!'

Lady Jocelyn struck both her hands on the table, and rested her large
grey eyes, full of humorous surprise, on Mr. George.

There was a pause, and then the ladies and gentlemen laughed.

'Yes,' Mr. George went on, 'that was old Mel. I'll swear to him.'

'And that's how it began?' murmured Lady Jocelyn.

Mr. George nodded at his plate discreetly.

'Well,' said Lady Jocelyn, leaning back, and lifting her face upward in
the discursive fulness of her fancy, 'I feel I am not robbed. 'Il y a
des miracles, et j'en ai vu'. One's life seems more perfect when one has
seen what nature can do. The fellow was stupendous! I conceive him
present. Who'll fire a house for me? Is it my deficiency of attraction,
or a total dearth of gallant snobs?'

The Countess was drowned. The muscles of her smiles were horribly stiff
and painful. Caroline was getting pale. Could it be accident that thus
resuscitated Mel, their father, and would not let the dead man die? Was
not malice at the bottom of it? The Countess, though she hated Mr.
George infinitely, was clear-headed enough to see that Providence alone
was trying her. No glances were exchanged between him and Laxley, or