who had barely nodded to him before, now amicably grasped the warrior's hand, and asked him to the most recherché dinners; and his inevitable description of the duel, at dessert, usually formed the feature of the evening. Cards of invitation from the most distinguished personages rained down upon the fortunate veteran in profusion. Report said that he had even lunched with the Commander-in-Chief. His cronies at the Pandemonium accused him of assuming an air of habitual arrogance. Captain Spotstroke swore that the general had cut him in St. James's Street.

But in London the lives of chance lions are short; people began to forget the Haggard duel and to cease to long for the presence of General Pepper, C.B. Grosvenor Square ceased to invite him to her banquets, though he was still a welcome guest in the mansions of Bayswater and Maida Vale.

As for Lord Pit Town, he was of the old school. He ascertained, from a reliable source of information, that Haggard had not been the aggressor. For a gentleman to go out with another gentleman before breakfast, to settle their mutual differences, seemed to him the most natural thing in life. The faithful Wolff too, as a graduate of a German university, had been a fighter of duels in his youth. Wrapped in the bandages, the pads, the plastrons, and the guards customary on such occasions, he and the other young fellows had pluckily stood up to chop at each others' faces, on what those enthusiasts were pleased to term the field of honour. Their eternal occupation in the new galleries soon caused Haggard and his duel to be forgotten by both, and, save in King's Warren parish itself, the whole matter ceased to be remembered.

Perhaps the very last mention of the affair, even there, was made by Miss Sleek, upon a rather memorable occasion to her father.

The young ladies at "The Park," notwithstanding their undeniable good looks and good temper, had failed to find admirers, at least eligible admirers, in King's Warren. Over-dressed young men, generally beaux of Capel Court, used to be brought down to stay from Saturday till Monday, to beguile the tedium of the girls' lives, by their indulgent papa. But the golden youth of the Stock Exchange found little favour in the eyes of the Misses Sleek. Generally at the second or third visit the gaily-clad young men would propose to one sister or the other, but both girls still remained heart-whole, and their father was not over anxious to lose them.

"My dears," said he one evening to his daughters, "Dabbler's coming down to-morrow. I do want you to be civil to Dabbler."

Now Dabbler was a widower; he was not of prepossessing appearance, and his h's troubled him, but Dabbler was a warm man. The Misses Sleek on hearing their father's announcement looked at each other in a meaning manner; to do them justice, perhaps because they had plenty of money themselves, perhaps because they were both rather romantically inclined, neither coveted the honour of consoling the unhappy Dabbler for his rather recent loss.

"Of course we shall be civil, papa," said the elder girl; "we always are civil to Mr. Dabbler."

The father smiled upon his dutiful children and gave no further sign.

On the Saturday Mr. Dabbler arrived. He was very attentive to both girls, neither of whom showed any desire to monopolize his society. On the Sunday afternoon the conversation turned on the recent duel at Rome. The ladies defended Haggard's conduct, while Mr. Dabbler laughed at duels and duellists, and stated his conviction that "that fellow Haggard deserved to be 'ung." Whereupon both girls were highly indignant; they rapturously commended Haggard's valiant behaviour. Unfortunate Dabbler, now upon his mettle, declared that "should he ever want satisfaction, his solicitor should get it for him."

The girls retorted at once "that in their eyes such a course was detestable, that they could never even respect, much less like, any one who professed such sentiments."

Dabbler, who had rather hesitated between his partner's daughters, and who, in his own mind, had decided that he had but to come, to see and to conquer, was a man used to arrive at determinations at once. From that instant he made up his mind that neither of the Misses Sleek would suitably fill the vacant place at the head of his dining-table.

As the two men went to town on the Monday by the fast morning train, Sleek, as he unfolded his Times, turned with a smile to his partner.

"Well, Dab," he said, "which is the lucky one?"

"They won't 'ave me, my boy," replied the other philosophically.

"And why not, in the name of common sense, pray?" replied his partner in some astonishment.

"Because I'm not a Nero," returned Dabbler with a sigh.

"What?" said Sleek.

"We will not continue this conversation, Mr. Sleek," said Dabbler solemnly, and both gentlemen buried themselves in their newspapers.