I

Do not feel really comfortable in my mind about it yet. We ought to have confessed at the time. I shall always think so, in spite of what Henry says.

thin, near-sighted, mild-mannered, and six feet three inches tall. His room was just above ours.

Many were the games of whist we four played in our little living-room, of an evening. Henry and I always played against the Major and Mr. Gately because—well, because, as Henry said, if there should be any quarrels they would then occur either entirely within, or entirely outside of the family. Besides, we had been married but a few months. Quarrels there were, beyond a doubt, but not many; and these not within the family. The Major would sometimes explode upon Mr. Gately, but the explosions always rumbled away into mutterings, and caused no damage. Henry said, "You can't shatter a monument of humility, you know."

As for Henry and me, we never had a

The landlady was Mrs. Buckingham; a woman of remarkable bulk. Her figure, Henry used to say, was like the figures in the United States Treasury statementsvague and stupendous. But with all her amplitude she had none of the bustling jollity, none of the tolerance we usually associate with corpulence. On the contrary, she was austere-majestic, in fact.

I suppose there was, or had been, a Mr. Buckingham. I asked Henry about this, but he replied, in awe-stricken tones, "Have you never heard about poor Buckingham?" and, upon my answering in the negative, whispered, hoarsely, "Beheaded -in the sixteenth century. We never mention him." Thereafter he always spoke of Mrs. Buckingham as the Duchess.

The boarders were all dear, good souls; but among them were only two whom we found congenial-Major Hawley and the Reverend Mr. Gately. The Major was a retired army officer, inclined to be explosive at times, though in his placid moments reserved and scrupulously polite. Mr. Gately was a young clergyman; neat,

always said that my game of whist was one to be followed-not led. And I must say I have always found him a very satisfactory partner-at whist. Yes, and in every way. Dear old Henry! To be sure he is--but never mind.

well,

I must confess that he rather shied at Mr. Gately sometimes. He said he was always tempted to smite him on the other cheek; and this I think was a horrid thing to say, for Mr. Gately was not really what one would call humble. He was coy. And, as I said to Henry, I was glad to have him with us because I wanted to draw him out. Of course, when I said this, Henry made one of his ridiculous replies. He exclaimed, "For mercy's sake, dear, don't! Think how he would look if did."

you

One evening, the evening after Christmas, we were seated at the whist-table in our room. Henry and I had had our Christmas dinner with his people, and Mr. Gately had had his at the rector's house. Mr. Gately was assistant at the parish church. The Major, poor man, had had

no other resource than to sit at Mrs. Buckingham's table.

What kind of dinner did the Duchess

I led some small card of a plain suit -Mr. Gately took the trick, playing a king second hand, and led the king of hearts. I saw the Major looked puzzled, and frowned.

"Five kinds of pie!" Mr. Gately exclaimed, mildly, as the hand went round. "Dear me ! What ill-judged benevolence!" Then, his king having taken, he led the ace and smiled.

"What infernal carelessness!" burst from the Major. His queen had fallen upon his partner's ace.

"Oh, hardly that! Surely the intent was manifest. Not that I defend the practice; but one could hardly-er-" Mr. Gately leaned forward as he spoke, still smiling, his cards clasped against his breast and his head slightly to one side.

"Confound it, man! I turned the queen when I dealt," said the Major.

The queen? Oh, yes-to be sure. I fear I am very stupid." Mr. Gately was the acme of devout contrition. The Major rumbled into silence, and the hand was finished without further remark. I remember that Mr. Gately led trumps a third time (he was drawing two for one, of course), but Henry took the next trick and kept on with trumps until all Mr. Gately's were gone. As it turned out, Henry had all the highest clubs; so we made four tricks.

"I must confess," I remarked as I was dealing, "I don't like Mrs. Buckingham's pastry."

"No," said Mr. Gately, assuming his most Anglican accent and intonation. "No. One can cherish for it a feeling of respect-of respect not unmixed with fear, I may say but one cannot really like it " (he pronounced it reelly); "it is so-er

uncompromising. I wonder what ingredients the good soul uses in its construction?"

"Mostly asphalt," said Henry; and at that moment there came a knock at the door.

It was Mrs. Buckingham, and she entered with a pie in each hand. "Good

evening," she began, ponderously. "I was sorry to have you miss my Christmas dinner; but I understand, of course, that family ties, or an invitation from the rector of the parish

Henry had risen and was offering her a seat. "You'll spoil him, Mrs. Buckingham," he said, breezily, as he took the pies from her. "You will, indeed. Think of it, Gately! Two pies! Mince?" This last to Mrs. Buckingham. She bowed and started to speak, but Henry went right on, though he winked at me over his shoulder. "Two whole pies! You're a lucky chap, Gately, I must say. I see you understand, Mrs. Buckingham, what voracious appetites these young

curates

"Only one is for Mr. Gately, Mr. Gray," said Mrs. Buckingham, solemnly. "The other is for you and Mrs. Gray. Major Hawley was with us at dinner, so I do not include him."

"Yes, Madam," said the Major, "I thank you. I have

had mine. I remember it." bowed with studied politeness.

and vestry. Mrs. Buckingham was among those who advocated Mr. Gately's appointment, and she was by no means without influence in the congregation.

We played a few more hands after Mrs. Buckingham had gone, but the pies weighed upon our spirits and the game dragged. Mrs. Buckingham's pies were really some

thing fearful. Before long the Major rose and bade us "Good-night" and Mr. Gately went up. stairs to his room, to do some writing, taking his pie with him. Henry tried

to make him accept ours, but he declined. He couldn't think of it. Reelly!

Later, as I was getting ready for bed, I heard Henry calling me softly from the other I came to

room.

"Though I do say it," continued Mrs. Buckingham, "my mince-pies are perfectly wholesome. They wouldn't hurt a baby." Henry, who was leaning over the back of my chair, whispered, "Wouldn't know what struck him," and Mrs. Buckingham, after a few inquiries of Mr. Gately about the rector's new plans and the children's festival, withdrew.

The rector had recently accepted a call to another parish, and the advisability of offering the rectorship to Mr. Gately was then under discussion among the wardens

"Let's put it on the top shelf of the closet," he said, and started on tiptoe for the closet-door.

"No, no, no," I gasped, pulling him back. "Don't! Please, don't! It would be horrid to have it there. And she might find it."

"Of course," he said. "That won't do. Aha! I have it! I have it!" and he crossed the room to the air-tight stove and opened the stove-door. "Henry Gray!" I exclaimed, hoarse"Are you crazy? Don't do that."

ly.

"Why not?" he asked; blandly. "Why just think!" I said. "It will

make a horrid"

"What are you afraid of? Clinkers?" said Henry. And then we looked at each other and began to giggle. From giggling we laughed. We continued to laugh in that senseless way people will, sometimes, until we were almost hysterical. At last Henry exclaimed, "Oh, pshaw! Stand over there, where you won't catch cold."

the door. I hurried Henry in, and soon he was peering cautiously out into the hall. "Gately! You're just the man we want. You're an angel. Come in, quick!" He pulled Mr. Gately into the room and walked him to the window."You. see that pie?" Mr.Gately seemed puzzled and started to speak, but Henry wouldn't give him time. "You're tall," he went on. "You have a long reach. Take this umbrella. Lean out as far as you can. Mrs. Gray and I'll hold your legs. Knock

to bed, to bed."

In the morning I heard an ejaculation from Henry. He was dressing in the other room. Now Henry seldom uses profane language, so when I distinctly caught the words, "Well, I'll be d-d," I ran to the door and asked what was the mat

ter.

"Fannie," said Henry, without turning -he was looking out through the window "come here." I came to him, and he pointed out of doors without another word. Just opposite the window, and some ten feet away, grew a large syringa bush. Firmly lodged in its branches was a pie, unbroken and in clear view.

I looked at Henry, and he looked at

Mr. Gately murmured something about being only too glad, and we soon had him in position. Alas! even he could not reach it. Try as he might, the pie remained undisturbed and stolid. While he poked and struck and prodded with the umbrella we could hear him saying, plaintively: "I fear -yes, I fear-it is-quite futile-quite futile." It was useless, and we pulled him in.

Then he and Henry began to throw pieces of coal at the pie; but Mr. Gately threw like a girl, and, besides, there were so many branches surrounding the thing it was almost impossible to hit it. Henry did, at last, knock out a small piece of the edge, but by this time there was so much