ing now and then to cheer away like a whole election mob.

"There's no other fellow," he cried, "no other fellow I should have liked half so well. I wish you could marry 'em both; you deserve them both-don't he, Mrs Badgerdon't he?"

"Oh! Mr Badger," I cried, "you are far too flattering; you have been so kind to me all along, that I never can sufficiently thank you; and now, if anything can add to my great happiness, it is this crowning kindness of yours-this hearty welcome."

"You deserve it, my boy-you deserve it. John Badger is not the man to give it if you didn't. But, I say, what kind of a fellow is Number Two? Candidly, now, aint he a bit of a flat?"

He's the best fellow in the world, and you'll like him far better than me,—but holloa! hush here they come;" for at this moment Burridge and Mary hove in sight.

They did not observe us at first, but when they did, Mary started and stopped; Burridge, on the contrary, merely withdrew his arm with great deliberation from her waist, and employing the hand so disengaged in fixing his eyeglass in his eye, advanced with perfect sang froid, stolidly regarding our

group.

"He's a cool hand, anyhow," muttered Badger.

I went forward and shook hands with Mary, whispering "a thousand congratulations;" then turning, I said, " Mr Badger, let me present to you my double, Captain Burridge."

66

"Glad to see you again, sir," said Badger, although" (with a twinkle in his eye) "I saw you only half an hour ago down by the waterfall. I saw you, though you didn't see me, I'll be bound, eh? ha! ha!"

"Can't say I did,” replied the unabashed plunger. "Saw you the other night, though

-rather too much of you, in fact; you wére anxious to see me, too-drill a hole in me, you know-haw! haw! Didn't see me, though, I'll be bound; banger of yours that -couldn't, you know, 'cause of the busheshaw! haw!"

How? what? are you the fellow who smashed my white rhododendron ? Oh Mary! you sly little cat! and I'll be bound you were out on the tiles after him."

"Come now, Mr Badger, 'pon my honour, now, too bad that. She knew nothing about it; I was cruising on my own hook."

"Really, uncle, I'm quite innocent, I assure you."

"I'll forgive you, I'll forgive everybody, I'll forgive everything! Come and kiss

your old uncle, you cat-and Burridge, your hand. I've heard your story; it's a queer one. I think you're a good fellow, a little soft, though, eh?—aint you a leetle bit soft,