the stranger was.

"You were right, Lennox; who do you think it was?"

"I am sure I cannot tell; one of the Duke's sons?"

"No, guess again."

"Bother guessing, tell me who it was."

"The Earl of Wentworth," said Ellen, blushing crimson.

"The Earl of Wentworth!—never tell me again I am not a judge of character! The Earl of Wentworth! I knew he was somebody, I am no fool; I can tell rank even in beggars' garb," said the proud man. "And what sort of man is he?" he continued; "from my penetration of character I should say an easy-going, nice fellow."

"Right," burst in Johnny, "he is such a jolly chap!"

"Young man," answered his mentor, "never let me hear you call a belted Earl a 'jolly chap' again; it is disrespectful; 'honour to whom honour is due,' remember that."

Mr. Lennox stayed for tea, and during all the evening nothing else was spoken of but Lord Wentworth, and Mr. Lennox's judgment of faces, a topic he was never tired of introducing. Ellen made Johnny recount over and over the very conversations of the Earl, and took no pains to conceal from L'Estrange that his star had set; so it was well for him he left early next day for a week's shooting across the river. Mr. Lennox during the whole week daily inspected the refitting of the Earl's pew, and gave many suggestions, and proposed little alterations he felt sure would very much please his lordship. We shall see by-and-by in what spirit they were received. The week, to Ellen, wore very slowly away; at last the long-wished-for day dawned when she was again to gratify her fatal wishes, and see him once more. A short time before the hour Lord Wentworth was expected Mr. Lennox made his appearance at Seaview, in order, as he said, to ask Mr. Ravensworth's opinion on a will, but really in hopes he might be asked by the Earl to accompany him in his carriage; and he thought with pride how he would be complimented on his taste, and even told Mr. Ravensworth so as he perused the law-papers, not even crediting his real motive. Johnny took his seat at the window; and no watchman ever looked out more attentively for the enemy than he did to catch the first glimpse of the carriage. Ellen was reading a book in an abstracted way, and her eye often wandered from its pages to the road; too often not to show her heart was not with her book.

He came at last; but to Johnny's surprise, and not a little to his chagrin, not in the drag, but seated on a fine horse, while a short way behind rode his favourite servant on a horse almost equally magnificent. Ellen was, however, charmed at the manner he managed his fiery steed, which showed his fine figure off to perfection. "L'Estrange was right," she thought, "he is handsome—he is!" Johnny had in the meantime acquainted his father with the Earl's arrival.

"Did he drive here, Johnny?"

"No," Johnny replied, discontentedly, "he is only riding to-day."

"Confound it!" slipped out of Mr. Lennox's lips, before he could arrest the words, as he thus saw his hoped-for drive vanish, "however," he said, "if his lordship is riding, I shall have the pleasure of accompanying you both, Mr. Ravensworth."

By this time Lord Wentworth had pulled up, and throwing his reins to Philip, himself dismounted and rang the bell. He had not long to wait; almost instantly the door was opened by the officious Mr. Lennox, who made his profoundest bow, and asked after his lordship's health.

Refusing an invitation to luncheon, to Ellen's extreme vexation, he proposed instantly walking to the church.

"Philip, lead my horse along,—unless, youngster," (addressing Johnny), "you like a ride—up with you, don't be afraid."

Johnny, however, declined the honour with thanks, not much relishing the idea of mounting a thoroughbred horse, as its fiery eye and thin transparent nostril betokened, as it champed its bit impatiently.

"No, thank you!" repeated the Earl, in wonder; "now when I was a boy I should have jumped at the proposal,—but times are changed since then. Philip, lead him."

Johnny felt he had gone down a peg in Lord Wentworth's estimation, and ten in the groom's. Young Nimrod, such was the horse's name, required indeed a high hand to rule him, and gave Philip not a little trouble, rearing, kicking, and plunging all the way in a manner which made Johnny feel glad he was not exposed to. Little was said on their way to the church;—when they reached it Mr. Lennox, as usual, led the way to the pew, round which stood Mr. Taylor, the upholsterer, and several workmen admiring their handy-work. Indeed, the pew certainly shone out not a little above its compeers, with its crimson curtains—velvet cushions—and the table in the centre covered with a rich cloth, fringed with gold; a sandal-wood door, and gorgeous oil-cloth, completed the furnishings.

"I think, my Lord, this is highly elegant, and distingué," said Mr. Lennox; "I myself superintended everything."

"I am sorry you took so much trouble," remarked Lord Wentworth, regarding the whole with a gloomy expression. Then turning sharply round on Mr. Taylor, and muttering to himself, "elegant!" "distingué!" he said: "I thought I ordered a plain mahogany door, and how comes there one of sandal-wood?"

"I thought,—my Lord——"

"What business had you to think, sir?—your duty was to obey. My orders were implicit, and how dared you disobey them? take the trash away!" and suiting the action to the word, with one kick his lordship literally smashed the frail door to pieces. The light thus admitted revealed for the first time the showy oil-cloth, which excited his ire not a little.

"And what the devil is this?—I ordered a carpet, and not this gin-palace snobbery!" shouted the enraged peer, forgetting in his passion whose house he was in.

Mr. Lennox here interposed, and said it was not Mr. Taylor's fault but his own, as he had thought it would look better.

"Then, another time, Mr. Lennox, I will thank you to mind your own business and let me mind mine—I am not accustomed to have my orders countermanded. Rip the accursed thing up. I will not move till it is gone."

Some workmen standing near executed this order with the utmost despatch, much fearing a more palpable display of wrath.

"And take off that gilt fringe, and let all be plain and quiet. Mr. Taylor, you have strangely mistaken my meaning: I wished a comfortable pew, not a vulgar display for every one to stare at. Let all this be done by to-morrow, and by heaven! let me catch you disobeying my orders again, and I will find some one else to execute them."

Mr. Taylor in mute fear only bowed acquiescence, and the Earl then turned on his heel, and as ill luck would have it nearly upset Johnny, who, half-amused, half-terrified, and laughing in his sleeve at Mr. Lennox's discomfiture, stood in stupid astonishment, till he was roused by an angry "Out of the way, boy—what are you blocking up the passage for?" and saw his lordship brush past to the door, where he mounted his fretting steed, coldly bowed to the bewildered throng—and, plunging his spurs into young Nimrod, left them to talk over their rebuff.

Bad temper is proverbially infectious, and as soon as he was gone a scene of mutual recrimination ensued. Mr. Ravensworth blamed Mr. Lennox for his officiousness; Mr. Lennox blamed Johnny, as the cause of all by refusing the offer of a ride. Mr. Taylor was much annoyed at his weakness in departing from orders, and even Johnny could not help muttering something about Mr. Lennox's good taste, which he did not fail to hear, and which added to his wrath and chagrin not a little. When Ellen heard the story she was more vexed than any of them,—vexed at this cloud which seemed to banish all her hopes risen on her heaven of blue. Her temper was not bettered by the arrival of Captain L'Estrange, who, however, treated the matter as a joke, and was vastly amused by Johnny's description of the scene, and the door, which he said was stove in as if it had been a band-box.