very close to the wind indeed. But what of that? (and he tried to put his own share in those ventures out of his mind). Hundreds of men in better position would do the samewere only too glad to get the chance. He comforted himself with precedents-prompted thereto by something of the same sheep-like instinct as Mrs. Bursford. Perhaps he had caught the trick from her. He was a good deal in her company of late.

"I am obliged to confess," replied Hogan, "that more might have been made of that occasion; and, though I don't offer it as an excuse, I must tell you that when public opinion and your own judgment are against a thing, it is difficult to work it up."

"That is not to the purpose," Saltasche went on-speaking now, however, in his own tone. "See him to-morrow, and make the best case for yourself that you can. On no account give him to understand you think his project hopeless; mark that, please."

"It is notorious, in the House and out of it, that he is doing it for a spite against the Broad-gauge Company. What do you say to my offering to refund his money?"

"You will please yourself as to that. Considering that his lordship could have got some one else to do as much, and also," (here Saltasche spoke with emphasis,) "that the obligation does not rest there, your course should be obvious."

Hogan, as he walked home that night, made up his mind to see Lord Brayhead and eat humble pie. It was the first time, and the savour of the dish was not pleasant.

So unpleasant was it that, as he left Lord Brayhead's presence the next day, he almost swore he would throw up the whole thing and go back to his practice-the practice which he had despised, and which his uncle the Bishop had declared to be the safest and the surest in the long run. He had always been independent before; and now- -well, he had got what he bargained for, and this was part of the price. Lord Brayhead had spoken to him as he might have done to his servant-man. As for Saltasche, whose tone in speaking to him rang through his ears still, and affected him just as a bad taste does one's palate, Hogan hoped soon to be able to throw over that flunkey. On the whole, he went back to London in bad spirits.

CHAPTER V.

"Der Mensch erwatet oft einen Kelch mit Necktar, und er kriegt eine Prügel suppe, und ist auch Necktar süss, so sind doch Prügel um so bitterer; und es ist noch ein wahres Glück, dass der Mensch, der den andern prügelt, am Ende müde wird, sonst könnte es der andere wakrhaftig nicht aushalten."-Heine, "Reisebilder."

THE Bursfords had taken lodgings in Clarges Street, Piccadilly. A large drawing-room, with two windows facing the street, and one bedroom, formed their whole accommodation; and for this they paid a sum so high that were it not that she had the O'Gorman Mulcahy's rent of the house in Merrion Street to fall back on, Mrs. Bursford would have rebelled outright. At it was, Jervis' supplies were necessarily cut off.

It was an afternoon late in the month of May. The windows were open, and the air, though close and warm as it is of a London May day, smelt pleasantly of the mignonette

and musk in pots in the balcony. Mrs. Bursford was lying on a sofa by the wall. She was weary and exhausted; an extensive shopping expedition had occupied her and Diana all the forenoon, and they had not long returned. Miss Bursford was sitting in the window, busily trying to read the debate of the previous night in the Times. She had taken a great interest of late in Parliamentary business.

She felt too tired to wade through much of it, however; and presently, lying back in her chair drowsily, she let the paper slip out of her lap and on to the floor. The rustle seemed to startle Mrs. Bursford: she raised the cushion on which her head was resting, and said,

"Diana! you might give me Miss Saltasche's letter. I had not time to read more than a page of it this morning."

Her daughter unlocked a desk and handed the letter, a voluminous epistle written in a crabbed hand. Then she returned to her seat; and Mrs. Bursford put on her spectacles and began to read it aloud, with comments interpolated.

"Her brother is coming over next week, to the Westminster Palace Hotel. He always

goes there. 'That unfortunate little Mrs. Poignarde '-do you remember, Diana? the pretty foreign-looking little woman who played so well at his concert-' she has lost her uncle, a very wealthy merchant, whose heiress she was to have been left all his money in charity, or something of that sort. I gather from the Greys that her marriage had displeased him. Mr. Saltasche managed some money affairs for the husband,-a sad scamp, it seems: he tells me they are almost penniless. She expects to have to teach for her living.' Dear, dear! I suppose it was the knowledge that she would have to come to that at last that made her practise and study as she did. I always thought there was something out of the way in her playing so well."

"Oh! quite," assented Diana. Then Mrs. Butsford went on,

"She says she has heard Miss O'Hegarty won't go away anywhere this summer. Her nephew, Dermot Blake, is to be home in July or August he means to go to Blakestown direct."

"August, is it now?" said Diana. "I thought we heard June, or May. He'll marry