WHAT THE BOOKSHELVES HID.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXI, Issue 4295, 2 March 1901, Page 2 (Supplement)

WHAT THE BOOKSHELVES HID.

i',V HATH I WEBB SCTOBIFFE. Archibald Cawlcbt, Dean of an. ancient ;m<i reputable college, sat m Ins library Una morning, bis taco all but buried hi a, treated on Etruscan Vases Do ujh ojjiire and long, the clean, and his clotuc» wm o snuffy and old, and ins suavmi cbm was never without a few interlacing cuts and gashes, the fruits of an absent minded application of the ra/.or. Keporfc had it in Cambridge that Archibald Guwlctt had once been young, but theio were lev; who would del end the theory

openly. , , <V bachelor, if ever tnorc vvc.i one ho knew nothing of women, because lie had invariably tied from them sit sight. He had road in Homer of tho loves of men and women, find had glowed; but it was mil*/ tln> language and tho quyntuiCd that had Hared his pulse. Ami so ho. was Imre, on this morning of May Meek, much as you would, hsivo found him on anv other morning of the term, deep in Ids musty books, and as remote trorn tno world outside as if he, too, were no more than a hook upon one ot Ides neglected shelves. . , ii, ‘•Hear me!" bo cried on a .sudden, m. tHo t/iduvviiv clock ehimod, one. 1 believe 1. had an appointment for one o'clock- -yes, yes, iSniithells was ct* como

' lie mil no from his chair and dusted his clothes a little, in the vague fashion that was peculiar to him; and ho won.u in all likelihood have gone baciv to his vases again from sheer iorgctfulncss, 1 ,■~| . n ot a spirited knock', sounded cm the door of bis outer room. ... ■ Como in. conic ink cried ihe Dean nervously, as he opened tho inner door. (To was always nervous when a man nad to be “hauled” for not keeping ehapeis, and his visitor, he felt sure, was fcmut.i-

Uut iiw vistor was not Smitbells, and tlm Donn rubbed his eyes and murmured •“l>ar nm” a score of times, and looked bcm'iml him as if to make sure of his ic-ti-fiit J<’ o r half-way between the door and the table, with its litter of papers, books, and vital- not, stood a girl in a muslin {town —a dainty, fresh-lookmg i-irl, with heightened colour and eyis that seemed to have a world of laugh-or in them. The 3i.1i.03-01-th.ot valley she was carrying brought a breath ot *lllll- - with them. ~ oOll—er—l—-I t hought you were bmith--11II?,” s.'.id the Dean. “No I’m not 'Smitliells,” said ( the other with an embarrassed .«mile. 1 m Violet Grey, you know. _ . , The Dean went on ruining Jus hands. Ho hail noticed that Miss Grey, whatever her business might be, haa closed the door belaud her, and his terror was so acute as to render him powerless either to advance or to retreat. “You must think it rather odd of me to run into your room in this way,” said Miss Grey, after a disquieting .silence. “Oh, no —not at nil odd, not at all dd, I —ah —or —l am extremely—extremely pleased to see you.” • “I couldn’t, help it, you sec, she went on, half laughing. “I think I ought to make some explanation, though, don t you ?’’ She was so outspoken, so like a kitten or "aim other irresponsible bib of innocence.* that the .Dean forgot a httlo ot bis shyness. Ho felt almost fatherly m a far-away fashion. True, it was rather perplexing, to find a lady, whom he had never seen before, come directly into his room in this- light and airy way, but then ho thought all women incomprehensible, and perhaps. there was nothing out of the common in this. “Perhaps—perhaps yon will take a chair ?” ho ventured, moving a step or two forward with a courage that did him credit. , _ , “Oh, no, thank you! I can’t stay. I' only ran in to escape ■” she began and stepped as a sound of feet came up the stair, and then a rattle of plates and dishes sounded at the outer door. Miss Grev, it seemed, was almost as nervous as the Dean in her own, way. “Dear me, dear me!” murmured the Dean opening the door a little way and peering out. ( ‘Tiiey li&vo broiiglib Ittncli np from the college kitchens; dear me t' cro are a groat many dishes. It would seem that I had asked someone-in to

lunch.”- , , , Ho closed the door softly, and stood with Lis hand across his eyes as if in great perplexity. Not' lightly had the clean earned his reputation for absentmindedness, and it took him an appreciable time to recall that ho had invited friends to lunch that clay. “Ah, I remember, I remember! life said, smiling nervously. “I asked tho Master and the Professor of Fine Arts to lunch with me at a quarter past one. Miss Grey’s anxiety increased. “Did —did you say the Master was coming hero to lunch ?” sho stammered. “Yes, I believe so,” said the Dean, doubtfully. “I think I asked him—it is clear I asked; someone, or the dishes would nob bo lying outside the door there.” . ' „ “Then I must indeed bo going, said the little lady, with decision. Let me explain why I came in here. I—l am engaged to—to Percy, you know; he hn~has rooms on the stair above.” “Percy ? Percy ? I think that must bo Smithells,” said the. Dealt, looking at her 'with growing interest. oinithells has i io rooms above mine—ah, that is he, I think!” he "broke off, as a burst of laughter sounded jusb ( above their heads.

“Yes, that is Percy. Ho has somo men in to. lunch. That is why I am here,” said Miss Grey, a little incoherently. .

“Smithells is a very pleasant man—a very pleasant man,” said the Dean, in a kindly tone. “He'clccs not keep chapels as Le should, and! he has forgotten that I asked him. to call on mo at one o’clock to-day—but, dear me, young men ■will bo forgetful. So you are engaged to Smithells, my—my dear?.” _ i Miss Grey could not resist his kindliness; besides, she must explain her presence here. "It is this way, you see,” she went on.. ”1 am staying with the Mas—with my uncle for May Week, and he has found out that Percy and 1 are engaged ; and this morning ho told me thafc it was monstrous, and that 1 must give him up, and that if I did not ho would send me hack to my people. And I was so. bothered that I ran irp to Percy’s rooms to tell him all about it—you don’t think it very naughty of me?” “Not at all , not at all. Most natural, I am sure,” murmured tho Dean, and thought how pretty the little lady was. “Percy was out , and I waited for him, thinking ho would soon bo in to lunch. And ho was soon into lunch,” sho added tragically ; “but ho brought fivo other men with him. I saw them through the window as they crossed tho quad, and ran down as fast as I could to escape them.” It was quite an adventure, this, to tho Dean. “And did you escape?” ho asked, almost bronthlcsJy. “No, I was tco late to get down tho stair; and just as I passed your door I heard them coming up the flight below. What was I to do? They were laughing and talking, and I daren’t meet them; they would have been sure to guess that I had come to see Percy. Tho stairs arc narrow, too, and your room was tho only hiding-place I could see. The door stood open, you know, and I was sure there was no one here, and I thought I would just run in until they had gone

up to 'Percy’s room. And now —-ini very sorry 1 disturbed, you; will you forgive rne?” she finished. •gviy dear, there is nothing to forrnvc* Smi ch ells* —Poix;y, shall I call Jum ?—.would not have liked las friends, to guess that you had been to see him. You* did quite right to come in here. 1 1 v ,-i s h you. all good fortune, I cm sure.” , , He blundered, and stammered, and worked hi- wrinkled face into the oddest grimaces. But Hiss Grey did not notice these things, she even forgo., that the Master was coming to lunch, for there was .something pathetic in this old man's kindly interest. “You sec,"’ went cm tho Dean, ho sometimes comes a nil smotccs a pipe with mo —’Percy, I moan —and helps to pass an. evening very pleasantly for mo. It is not a U undergraduates who care to do as much. But ho is very irregular with chapels,” he added, letting ins don’s conscientiousness peep out. “I .wish my undo thought as well of him,” she, sighed. Then “-Good-bye, I am so grateful to you,’’ she added, and held her hand out frankly to him. And then as an afterthought, she laid her hunch of lilies on the table. “Will you take these, ip token of my thanks ?” she said nrettily. “They Were for Percy, you know; but in my' hurry 1 loft UH parasol up there instead of the flowers.”

It was at tins moment that a loud — almost blatant —voice sounded from the stairs without. Miss Grey let her hand fall, to her side and looked blankly at the Dean.

“That is the 'Muster,” ho said, his old nervousness returning; “dear me, and my gyp has forgotten to lay the luncheon tabic.”

“Are you a. friend?” said Miss Grey, with, startling suddenness. “A—a. friend? Yes, lam a. friend, I hope.” ’ . Tho hlanlant voice was drawing nearer, and Miss Grey was in an agony of trepidation. . ‘'Thru show me a. piece to hide m,’ she cried. .‘To hide in, do you underst;nd? Oh, why did lever .slay licro ? He will guess that I have been to Percy’s rooms—ho will ” - “My dear, what is the matter? I—l do not understand,” .stammered tho

Dean. Miss Grey laid a hand on 'his rusty sleeve. “They—they are coming nearer,” she whispered, with a tragic glance towards Iho door. “I must hide, I must!”

“Hide, rny clear?” protested tho other. “I really do not sec why.” “Oh, hub I could tell you why—could give you a hundred reasons, indeed I could'. But there is' no time to do anything.

The Dean was carried 'beyond himself. The situation was .unprecedented in his experience ; ho had no weapon* with which 10 meet it. The girl’s eyes, moreover, were looking so trustfully into his, and she was in such evident trepidation, that he scarcely thought of what ho was doing; tho one thing clear to him was, that this visitor of his'sought his protection. and that he must shelter her from tho mysterious danger that, was hanging over her pretty head. With the air of a conspirator, and a. boldness which was duo entirely to the excitement of tho moment, he motioned her to tho door which led to his inner library—a cunningly concealed door, with dummy shelves and rows of dummy books painted on its frolic. . “Your scciofc is quite safe with me—quite .safe,” ho .murmured. There w is a loud knock, and the Doan had only time to push the door to, without latching it, before lie had to turn to meet his guests. ‘T-car me, dear me,”, he murmured; “a most extraordinary situation to be in. Dear me, if they should iiu, good morning, good-morning. I• am glad to see you.’ '

Tho Master, big, florid, and nosy, had entered with the Professor of Fine Arts; tho Dean’s nervousness, however, was scarcely more noticeable than usual, though his oyo kept '•wandering- in the direction of those four-and-twenty volumes of “Myths,” whose titles wero painted 011 the dummy bookshelves. “Good morning, Cawlett! Are we be : fore our time, eh?” cried tho Master j glancing at the table. The Dean shuffled the hooks and papers about, under tho impression that he was clearing them away. “No, no—that is—the lunch has come up, Dpt- my gyp seems to be busy elsewhere—seems to be busy elsewhere,” .he repeated, and glanced at the inner door ; and laughed in an idiotic way. : “Humph! The lunch has come up, for I nearly fell over it as I came in,” growled the Master, who always bullied weaker men that himself. ;

“ —I fancy the gyp will he here presently,” said t*ic Dean, apologetically; “Smithells has somo friends in, you see, dnd—and perhaps ho needs the gyp.” i Tho Master stood on the. hearthrug and snorted. ' “Smithells?” ho cehoedi “He’s a disgrace to the college. Always lunching, or supping, or playing cricket —anything but work.” i “Oh, how can lie say such things of Percy?” murmured Miss Grey, listening breathlessly from the far side' of th 6 dummy row of books. ; ; But the Dean -was rubbing bis hands together miserably, and thinking bf what this loud-voiced master of his college (.would say if he know all; and he failed to grasp—what the girl had made plain enough—that the Master and Miss Grey’s undo were one and tho same, and that his severe handling of Smithell’s chary acter had reference to the latter’s imy prudent courtship. ’ j The Professor of Fine Arts took his cue from the Master always, and he, too, must have his little sarcasm at the Dean’s expense. j “Ah, wo don’t often see flowers on your table, Cawlett,” he put in, point! ing to Miss Grey’s bouquet. “Have you followed the prevailing fashion in Mai week, and entertained some lady visijtors?” !

The Dean glanced at the row of | dummy books which marked bis inuef i door, and be blushed. So the Professor, j seeing that his rallefy had hit the mark 1 , went- on with it. And. the Dean grew ! redder and redder, and stammered more i acutely every moment. ; | “Conie, come, we shall see yon mar- j riod yet,” cried the Master, with hik j ponderous laugh. “What about your ; fellowship, eh, Cawlett? Flowers a.rp dangerous things when the college won’t I allow you to marry. Remember that j you come under the old regulations.” I | “I scarcely—scarcely think of marry- j ing,” murmured the Dean. “The Sowers j were brought me—by—by my niece.” - j

“What a dreadful iiqi” said Miss Grey ■ to herself. And she was sorry that so | aid a man should be driven to duplicity I on her account. i I

“Ah, yes, wo have all had nieces, sis- ! tors, cousins, in our time.’’ went on tho Master, and was about to elaborate such elephantine pleasantries as had secured him a reputation for wit, when the entry of Cawlett’s belated gyp put an cud to his raillery. It was as the Dean had thought; the needs of Smithells upstairs had been so pressing that tho manservant had entirely forgotten his duties below. He soon had the cloth laid, however, and the lukewarm dishes set in order; and Miss Grey, .as sho listened to the chink of knives and forks, the bubble of wine into tho glasses, began to feel a sympathetic hunger, and to ask herself how long she would he kept jrisoaer. But she was thankful tiat she anr* the ■

Mm, ter were on opposite sides of tout row of dummy book;.

As for tho Dean, ho was lost. The experience was so unique that he could iiml no way of meeting it; and not one of his treatises on Etruscan vases offered him any light upon the .situation. _ It had ah passed so quickly—the girl's entry, her explanation her Midden, inexplicable flight. And now he, of all men, was guilty of concealing a lady in his inner room. Ho did not know much of those- mailers but lie .-eonicd to have read that it was only _ very desperate villains who did such things. Certainly he could remember no case where, a Dean had been convicted or an oifcncc so dire.

“Como, Cawictt, we are moody today,” cried the -Master cheerily, as ho poured himself another glass of port. •‘l’ll ho bound you arc thinking of your pot Etruscan vases, or ” “Xo,” interrupted the Dean plaintively. ‘T was not thinking of Etruscan, vases.”

“The Classics, then?” put in tho Professor of Fine Arts. “Something of that sort, judging by the way your eyes keep roving to the bookshelves yonder. Do give hooks a vest, Gawlett, in May week' —thing of tho flowers you had brought you instead.” “Ah- l!a, lift! Yes, I will think of the flowers,” said tho victim, ivit.li a dreary chuckle.

“But don’t forget that you hold a Senior Fellowship,” murmured the Master, as lie passed Ills plate for the liverwing of a chicken. The Dean was literally trembling wish excitement. These desperate villians of whom lie had read—were luoy not always discovered at tho finish? What would they say at the high table if his visitor were discovered, and the report spread through 'the college? Their tall; was so pointed that it seemed they .suspected I;ini already. At all costs he must not look in the direction of hi-. inner room —yet even as lie gave himself this sago advice he fell into tlio same raid, contemplation ot the dummy books. This much at least was plain—that, however guilty tho Dean might be in thio.io ease, the was; not used to playing such games of liuut-Uie-lady. He tried to talk of other things, bub could not; he kept starting violently on his chair, until bis guests glanced sideways at each other and nodded gently, as if to say they always know how near the Dean’s eccentricity was to some thing worse.

“Will they" never finish lunchmurmured Miss Grey. “Gb, I’m so miserably hungry, and undo is so prosy at meal-times always. If lie, once begins telling stories I may have to wait an hour--two hours —all the afternoon.” And then her heart sank, for through the door she hoard tho blaster begin to laugh in tho slow', assured, well-fed way that always preceded one of his “good stories.”

T’-.a Professor of Pine Arts prompted him gently, like iho faithful satellite lie wnA “Won’t you share the jest with us ?” ho asked. “Yes. do,” murmured the Dean, with another apprehensive glance towards his bookshelves.

“I was thinging of what happened in little Hanway’s rooms tho other day. Of course it was nor very proper, and I would not tell it anywhere but hero, • began the Master, settling himself into an easier nositiou.

There tore few men so fond of gcn:le scandal as your more worldly tpye cf don andl the Professor Fin Arts drew his chair nearer to the Master’s. '‘Hanway, Hanway?” ho said. “Oh, ycs_, I remember; second year mathematics. He seems a very* quiet little chap, I always thought.”

“He’s deep, kliucklod the Master. “He s a. kind of connection of mine, ’Ol know, and I found myself in his rooms the other afternoon. Hanway, young rascal, ihad not expected me, and I thought he appeared ill at ease from tin. first. I always like to see tlm other side of a, wall, as you know—it is a useful habit —and so I got up hy-aiid-by and wandered about tho room. There was a .screen near-tho window; I peeped' behind, and what do you think I found?” The Dean wax growing visibly paler. There was a loon of Kismet on his face. He gripped the edge of tho table with, his hands, and he looked at the Master appealingly, and, “TVhat did you find?” he said tremulously. “Only tho prettiest little girl l—-ahcni!-r-liave oven seen in Cambridge. It was droll, I assure you, though a trifling embarrassing both for Hanway and myself. .Why, Cawktt, what is the matter with you? You’re not at all yourself to-day.” • “I—l am only a little faint. It will pass off. Your stories are so amusing—so amusing—and laughter always turns me” -faint,” stammered the other. “Yes, it must have been embarrassing,” put iu the Professor. “I don't know v/hat one would do under the circumstances.”

“What I did, very likely,” laughed the Master, pouring himself yet another glass of port. “The girl came forward very prettily, and looked very helpless, and said it was dreadfully wrong, but that she and little Hanway lover each other dearly. And so, as she was 'so pretty, anu so evidently a lady, and there seemed no harm in it, I began with a caution, and ended by giving them my blessing.” “Oh, Uncle, I’ve found you out! murmured Miss Violet Grey from her post behind the dummy books.

“It was funny, though, in see Hanway’s face,” went on the big, blatant voice. '"Ho was just such another as you, Cawlett, to look at—gentle and far-away, with an other-worldly look disarmed suspicion. Upon my work, I would as soon have dreamed it of you as of Hanway!” 1 Tho Dean rose hurriedly and began to pace the floor. His conscience was overactive, and. he read into this idle gossip a deeper meaning than its author ever thought of. In some tray they-.had learned his secret, these two. and they wore playing with him as a eat play-, with a mouse. He was sure of_ it,- .inti again pictures of that night’s dinner in Hail rose before him, and lie saw himself walking up and up and up to the High Table, while dons and undergraduates alike whispered one to another the tale of his misdeeds. The others scarcely noted his abstraction, after a mattered, “Cawlett grows more absent-minded every day”; and whe t the Dean came out of bis feverish ri-crio he found that these two, whom ho had thought Lis persecutors, were talking hard and fast of something equally remote from himself and from the subject of concealed ladies. The Professor, in fast, wm airing some theory of his as to the folk-lore of the Persians, and tho Master, following his invariable rule, was contradicting flatly, and with rudeness, every assertion that was made. Tho Dean breathed again, as men do when one peril is parsed and another has nob yot cast its shadow on the mind. He listened to tho argument and heard both disputants grow loud and quarrelsome, and rubbed bis bauds together gleefully, thinking that after all tliey would never learn .what-was hidden in his Library. 'T say, sir, that you arc wrong; your premisses are false, and your conclusions ridiculous,” thundered the Master. “And I say that, with all respect io you, your fallacies will not be.'r a moment’s rear ming. The myth of the GhostH Horseman in Persia, is distinctly trr.ceable tc ” “t?o you have said before,” interrupted

: the Master, with his pme>*ional rudei ness. “Will you accept- the voroict oi I an acknowledged worn ou tno subject? C'awleti here is sure to_ liavo pmr.iy ci ; literature dealing with it- . j -hill the Dean did not umiema) id now I near the gulf lie stood. lie -watched with a placid eye while the Mast er rose and began to hunt through tea ‘ hoc-i----dielves for a book on iaistem folklore; it yeas only when .starch on two sides of the room proved, fruitless, and tno big, burly fi-rnro went ft riding towards that line of dummy books, that the Dean felt ii] J his old alar in return. “Stop, stop !” he cried, -there is no bock oil the subject there —no book at ‘■ U But he was too late. The Master's eye had caught a likely title, suid he had moved forward eagerly- “ Yes, this should give it. ‘-Myths, by Professor Robinson.’ .Reliable man m bis subject,” he cried, putting his harm .011 the top of the row of dummies. Ho tried to pull the book out, ami to ]. : s surprise lie pulled open a c,oor insfcead; hind behind the doer, to his still groater surprise, stood a girl in sv white muslin dress; and, as if the surprise needed italicising still further, the lady

was well-known to him. The -duster ga.sjed. A .silence, deco and lev. fell on the whole company. The- Doan fell into a chair, and shrivelled to'a him 8 shapeless bundle of old and sn-mv clothes. And then a blatant

voice rang out: , ‘■tliiv I ask the meaning or this, Mr CawlettP” The .Dean, did Ids best to sit up like u man. . . . , a er that as my neicc : she brought me the flowers., you remember,” ho said. “There are tr.vo points in your story that strike mu as curious,” responded 1 he’Master, wir-h chill irony. “The first is, tinl l uncles T-do not usually secrete their neices in this way—it is scarcely necessary, indeed, if one comes to think of it. The second is, <hai 1 was not cuiare we were related,■ Mi dawlctt, you and I.” ■No,” said the! Bean, lonm-my. “And yet we m.ud be, for this Indy n hiv niece, also.” ■ . -tin the motheff’s -side—strictly on the

mother’.s side,” ra Mi’inured the Dean. Mo one had the fit intent idea, what he meant, but neither did anyone, think it needful

to -iiujuirc. There was another silence, and then the Master, in awful tones, asked Mr Cawlott unco more to explain the meaning of this conduct. It. was Miss Violet (Vt"', however, who answered for her protector. “It was nob Mr Ct wlett’.s fault,, nude,” die said, still staiic’ing iu the arch of the doorway. "It. was all my doing.-'’ ••Then I admire your modesty, Violet,” said the Master, and stood like a wo!l----fed figure of justice, looking down upon the chiefly culprit and on the youthful.

The pause was broketu by a.hurried step oulsiuo. and a hurried knock, and _ a hurried opening of the door. “Oh, I’m so sorry, hut I clean forgot about ” Tim boyish voice land preceded its owner, and both voice axial owner stopped on seeing the strange ■tableau with-

“Thalj is Smithells,” said the- Dean, and he glanced at the new-comer as if in some obscure way he could help the situation through. But Smithells only made, the situation worse. He glanced at Violet, standing on the threshold of the inner door; at the pompous and austere guardian of her 'welfare ; at tho unhappy Dean; and in his surprise ho blurted out tho first thought that was uppermost in Ida mind. “Why, Vi, what on earth arc you doing hero?”- he cried. “It-was you, then, who left the parasol in ray room—l—oh, what an ass I am!” ho’ finished, as ho realised tho fatuousness of his admission.

“Really, this is most interesting ” said the Master, in his most cutting Vein. “May I ask, Violet, if you have been hiding in all the rooms of this ancient and religious foundation? Was no one too old”—with a withering glance at the Dean—“or too young”—with another at Smithells— <; to give your talent for flirtation scone?’' Miss Grey came forward. Sho seemed not to mind anything, snow that “Percy” way here. “Listen, uncle," she said quite calmly; “you told.mo this morning that I must say good-bye to Percy, did you not?” ; The Master godded. !

“Well, I came obediently to say it--came to. Percy’s rooms, you know, the very first chance I had. And’ while I was waiting for him I heard him coming up the stairs with a heap of rfbher men ; and I could not get down without being seen, and s o I ran in hero until they had passed. Then, while I was here, you came, and I was so afraid tha t you would guess how—how obedient I had been in coming to say good-bye to Percy—that I slipped behind the door here. Mr Cawlott had nothing at all to do with itj and-—” i “What has Mr Smithells done that ha should not marry your niece?” J it was the Dean who spoke—the Dean; who had tapped an unsuspected vein of courage, and who, in his absent-mind-ed way, had hit very straight to the mark for once.

“Why, sir?” roared the Master, losing his dignity. “Because he is penniless, and as lazy as the Cam ; because —” ; “I Leg your pardon,” interrupted the Dean, still in the .same gentle voice; “I know his people well, and they are far from penniless. He is their onlyson. An Dean. I am entitled to say that Mr Smithcll’s conduct is exemplary —except, perhaps, in the matter of chapels,” j “And then, you see, uncle,” put in Violet, “you forget that I overheard your description of the scene in Hanway’a room. What did you do, uncle? As she was «o pretty, and as she was so evidently a lady, and as there seemed no harm in it. you cave Diem your blessing. Well, dear, am not I a lady? mid—curl, well Percy «nyo that lam pretty. I think we’re writing 'or ren to ”

The Master changed. colour. It. '-'n.; an unwelcome- thrust. and Ivliss 6rc*;f followed it up with another; i “Besides,” she said sweetly, “I loftmy parasol in Percy’s room and all the other men saw it—and recognised! it,, didn’t they, Percy?” | /‘Of course.” said Smithells, catching a meaning glance. | “So I’m hopelessly compromised in nxiy .case—and don’t you see it would he ever so much simpler to give in and persuade mother to the naatci.P” The Me-ster blustered awhile; hut lie was assailed, from too many auai’ter..;, end his silence, as he went out with the Professor of, Fine .Arts, was in itself consent. The other two were following, when the Dean’s conscience, aliro yet after all the turmoil of the morning, reasserted itself. “Smitholls!” he called, going to tho door. “Yes, sir,” answered tho other, as ho came back a step or two. “There was a little matter of discipline I wished iii discuss with you. I asked you to, call at one o’clock, if you remember.” “Yes, I came in ,iast now to tell you how sorry I was, sir. I —well, the fact is. it clean slipped my mind.” “You linro been very irregular at elm pci lately. I fear I must—l hope yon won’t mind, Smitbells —hut I fear I must gate you for the remainder of the week ” Smitbells smiled happily at the Dean. "I don’t mind, sir—now,” he said.

Won’t you gate Violet, too r—i roni the Christmas number of "Cassell's Magazine.”