ask me--as if I knew everything."

"A companion, I suppose," said George, more and more confused. "But,
pardon me, I must leave you now. Good-bye, uncle. Good day, Mr.
Darrell."

Darrell did not seem to observe George take leave, but walked on, his hat
over his brows, lost in one of his frequent fits of abstracted gloom.

"If my nephew were not married," said the Colonel, "I should regard his
embarrassment with much suspicion--embarrassed at every point, from his
travels about the country to the question of a young lady at Twickenham.
I wonder who that young lady can be--not one of the Viponts, or I should
have heard. Are there any young ladies on the Lyndsay side?--Eh,
Darrell?"

"What do I care?--your head runs on young ladies," answered Darrell, with
peevish vivacity, as he stopped abruptly at Carr Vipont's door.

"And your feet do not seem to run from them," said the Colonel; and, with
an ironical salute, walked away, while the expanding portals engulfed his
friend.

As he sauntered up St. James's Street, nodding towards the thronged
windows of its various clubs, the Colonel suddenly enountered Lionel,
and, taking the young gentleman's arm, said: "If you are not very much
occupied, will you waste half an hour on me?--I am going homewards."

Lionel readily assented, and the Colonel continued "Are you in want
of your cabriolet to-day, or can you lend it to me? I have asked a