Shorncliffe. And then the Honourable Wilfred Okedon rested not until he got leave and went straightway off to London town to visit the girl he had left behind him.

Now it is no exaggeration whatever to say that during the journey home, Daddy Longlegs had gone over, with care and loving attention, every little trifling detail of this interview, until he might fairly have been described as "word-perfect."

During his sojourn in the land of Pyramids and scarabei, he had completely forgotten Miss Daverel the heiress, had thought very little about Violet Daverel the beauty, and a great deal about Violet the girl. In his own mind he had arranged that, though she would not be expecting him, she would be alone, that she would spring from her chair, and, with a few tears, fall into his arms, and, like the prince and princess in the fairy tale, they would live happy ever after.

It was all very pretty; but, unhappily, it did not fall out as he had planned at all. On the contrary; for when he reached the home where his divinity dwelt, he found other worshippers at the shrine. She jumped up in a great hurry when he was announced, it was true-but there all resemblance to his arrangements ceased. He had to endure a good deal of hero-worship, which he felt he did not deserve, and hated accordingly; but he had not the smallest chance of a few quiet words with the fair young mistress of the house.

At last, just when he was beginning to think he should have to go, Mr. Daverel came in and, acting on a hint given in a whisper from his daughter, told him they were going to the Lyceum that evening, and asked him to come back to dinner and to go with them.

Daddy needed no second bidding. He was out of the house and into a cab in two minutes, and spinning back to the Alexandra Hotel, which he had chosen because it was nearer Queen's Gate than the one he usually used. He was dressed in next to no time and on his way back again; but he was not early enough to find Violet in the drawingroom alone.

However, to be with her at all was joy, and Daddy did not grumble, but ate an uncommonly good dinner and enjoyed it greatly. And then when Violet rose, telling her father and an old gentleman who was the only other guest that they had just five and twenty minutes before they need move, he asked her if he might come with her, and she said "Yes."

Of course she said "Yes," and Daddy might have known what that meant, and acted on it. But Daddy didn't! Instead, he behaved very much as he had done before, and let Miss Daverel, the heiress, come between him and Violet, the girl who loved him.

"Ten minutes gone!" she said impatiently, as she glanced at the jewelled hands of the little Dresden clock. "Oh !-why can't he speak?" But Daddy didn't. He stammered and hammered, looking unutterable things, and standing nervously, first on one foot and then on the other, until Violet would have liked to scream, just by way of relieving her feelings.

And then, when three more precious minutes had slipped away, a bright thought struck her, and she put out her hand and took the little ivory fan off the mantelshelf where it was lying.

"Willie!" she said, "I have kept your fan quite safe, you see!' And she spread it out and put it into his hand.

I think neither he nor she ever quite knew how it happened; but when Violet heard the story of the fan, she solemnly declared that there was magic in it. "The moment it flew open when he caught my hand," she said, when telling Daddy of Sir Piers Trevor, "I looked right through that man's soul as one might look through a pane of glass; and I knew that he didn't care a button for me. I really do believe it has a power of letting one who holds it open see into the minds of those to whom he is speaking-else why should you have-have

"Clawed hold of you so unceremoniously," he ended. "Why, my darling, because-I dare say you didn't know it—but you called me Willie'!"

"I called you Willie'?" incredulously.

"Yes, you did, indeed," he said smiling; "but you see, the old lady's charm has worked after all, and so we'll give it the credit of the whole business and the benefit of the doubt."

Violet Daverel put the fan together, and then bending her head, dropped a gentle little kiss upon the unintelligible hieroglyphics. "I shall always love that old negro woman," she said gently. I wish that she were here, that I might give it to her instead of to the fan."

66

"Great heavens be thanked, that's impossible!" Daddy cried. "Give it to me, darling, instead."

JOHN STRANGE WINTER.

Engraved by E. H. DEL ORME and BUTLER, from the Painting by C. NAPIER HEMY.