"But who is he? Is he a gentleman ?"

"Of course he is," replied Miss Arabel; "or do yon think he would venture to speak to me?"

"Did he tell you his name?" "No. All he has told me is-he is living with an old gentleman in one of the villas in the neighbourhood."

"An old gentleman," mused Miss Susannah, "in a villa-it must be the same—it must be old Roe's grandson. If it is, and he takes a fancy to this girl, it will be all well yet. What has he ever called you? Did he ever say you were an angel?"

"No. He thought me one, though; and said he had heard of what a treasure Surbridge contained; and yesterday he repeated it, and said he would give the world to be able to call it his."

"That's something. You must get him to say something of the kind before a witness."

"But how? What witness can there be, when I can never bring him to the house?"

"Why not? Ah, how I recollect, in the back parlour," said Miss Susannah, her memory unconsciously

wandering back to the love incidents of her youth.

"The back parlour?" enquired Miss Arabel.

"The back-I didn't say back par, lour. I said black parlour-the oaken dining-room in my father's house."

"And what of it, aunt? What made you think of the black parlour now?"

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"Oh, it was a picture," stammered Miss Susan, inventing an excuse for her mistake; a beautiful old portrait -a sort of I don't recollect what it was."

"Ah! that puts me in mind of what he speaks of often-the pictures in our house. I say, aunt," she continued, as if a thought had struck her. "Well?"

Suppose I were to invite him to come into the Hall and see the portraits?"

"Well, so you might. Your father would think he was as fond of drawing as you are; and if he be the person I think he is, your father will be delighted that you have made a friend of him."

"Indeed? Oh, I'm so happy! I'll ask him to the house this very day; and perhaps if he says any thing, aunt, about the treasure, you can be in the way to hear it."

"That I will, and I'll bring your father, too. There's nothing like a father or brother in cases of the kind. If I had had a brother that would fight, I might have been married myself. Dear me, what an uncommon handsome young man in the avenue! I know him to be a lord by his walk."

Miss Arabel stretched her neck, and nearly strained her eyeballs in the effort to follow the direction of Susannah's eyes.

"That's he," she said; 66 go now, and leave me to get him into the house."

"He can't be any relation of

Thomas Roe: he's too handsome for that," thought Miss Susannah; "but whoever he is, she'll be a lucky girl to catch him. My Sam was a foot or two taller, but very like him in every other respect-except the limp in the left leg."

As she turned back before entering the house, she saw the young people in full conversation in the shrubbery walk.

"Well, if he is old Thomas Roe's grandson, and Arabel can hook him into a marriage, there will be no occasion to leave Surbridge Hall. Does the monster wish us to be tallow chandlers again?"

On hurrying to the drawing-room to communicate to her nephew the fact that Mr Roe's heir was desperately in love with Arabel, she found Mr Gillingham Howard endeavouring to carry on a conversation with the very individual she most dreaded to see. Mr Roe had walked up, accompanied by Fanny Smith, to return the visit of the day before.

"This is so kind," said Miss Susannah, "and so friendly to bring your pretty grandchild. Our girls will be delighted to be her friends."

"Fanny's a good girl," replied the old man; "and you mustn't spoil her. Gus was just going to tell me if he had made up his mind, when you came in. You've thought of my offer, Gus?"

"I warrant her heart against all breakage and other damages, save and except the ordinary wear and tear-as Puff says in letting a furnished house; and, if it only depends on the young lady, I think I'll answer for her being more anxious for the arrangement than I am. But here's company coming, and I must have your answer before I go."

Mr Gillingham Howard heard the carriage stop at the door. He felt it was impossible to present so roughmannered a man as Mr Roe to any of

his friends without a certainty of exposure, and he was strongly tempted to agree to his demand at once, if he would immediately leave the house; but before he had time to arrange his thoughts, the door opened, and the Rayleighs of Borley Castle were announced.

Mr Gillingham Howard, by a great effort, received them with his usual courtesy.

"I have brought Mr Tinter with me," said Mrs Rayleigh," and I hope you will let him see your family portraits. We have told him so much of them, that he is anxious to see them himself. He is writing a description of the private collections in the county."

Mr Tinter bowed; and Mr Gillingham Howard, with an imploring look to Mr Roe, who sat resting his chin upon his walking-stick, professed himself highly honoured by Mrs Rayleigh's request.

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"I believe you have portraits of the Sidney family, sir," said Mr Tinter, as I hear from Mrs Rayleighyou are nearly related to them; I should like very much to compare them with the pictures at Penshurst."

"Oh! Mr Howard says the Penshurst pictures are only copies of his," said Mrs Rayleigh.

"Did I, madam? Did I say all ?" "If not all, you said most of them; and also, that you had some originals of those in your distant relation, the Duke of Norfolk's gallery."

Mr Gillingham Howard felt that Mr Roe's appalling eye was fixed upon him, though he did not venture to look in the direction of where he sat.

"Mr Tinter will tell you at once which are the copies. You can do that, Mr Tinter?"

"I can guess at the age of the picture, and the name of the painter, if he is a master," replied Mr Tinter.

"Oh! but Mr Howard has some pictures that Sir Thomas Lawrence said were the finest in Europe. Didn't he say so, Mr Howard?"

"Why, ma'am-I think-at least, so I understood him. Didn't Sir Thomas Lawrence praise some of my pictures, aunt?"

"I really don't remember," said Miss Susannah, looking more at Mr Roe than at her nephew.

66

Oh, I thought you told us last time we dined here, that Sir Thomas stayed with you weeks at a time, and copied five or six of them himself."

"P'r'aps I knows more of them family portraits," said Mr Roe with a wilful exaggeration of accent and magnanimous contempt of grammar"than e'er a one on ye."

All eyes were immediately directed to the old man. Mrs Rayleigh, who was a fine lady, and had never seen so queer a specimen of a critic as Mr Roe, was a little alarmed at his uncouth pronunciation. And Mr Gillingham Howard made a feeble and unsuccessful effort to deaden the effect of his remarks.

"My friend is a remarkably good judge of the fine arts, but quite a character. An amazing humourist, and very much given to quizzing. You'll hear what fun he'll make of us all."

"Who is he?" enquired Mrs Rayleigh, in the same confidential whisper.

"A person who has grown very rich in some sort of trade. He was a protegé of a relation of mine."

"And you bear with his eccentricities in hopes of his succession?" "Exactly."

"I minds the getting of the whole lot on 'em. I can give you the birth, parentage, and edication, of every one on 'em."

"Of the pictures, sir?" enquired Mr Tinter, taking out his note-book. "I shall be delighted with any information."

"But where is the gallery, Mr Howard?" enquired Mrs Rayleigh.

"Why, madam, many of the pictures-in fact, all the best of them are in London at the cleaner's; but in the passage to the Conservatory there are some remaining, but the place is dark. I hope you'll rather look at them some other time."

"Now's the best," said Mr Roe, starting up. "Let's see the family picters, Gus."

Mr Howard was forced by the entreaties of all the party, and led the way to the passage where his pictures were hung, followed by Mrs Rayleigh and her two daughters, and Mr Tinter, Mr Roe, and Fanny, and Aunt Susannah,

"That seems a portrait of Queen

VOL. LVII. NO. CCCLI,

Anne's time," said Mr Tinter, pointing to a much bewigged old gentleman in an antique frame. "Pray, what is its history?"

"Isn't that your grandfather's uncle, the general who won the battle of Ramillies against Marlborough's orders?" enquired Mrs Rayleigh. "Do tell Mr Tinter all about it."

"I reminds all about it," said Mr Roe, before the agonized Mr Howard could make any reply. "One of our agents failed, and we seized on his furniture, and old Bill Wilkins took this'n 'cause of the oak frame. He was a grocer in the Boro', and his name was-was-but I forgets his

name.

"Who took the furniture?" asked Mr Tinter," and who was a grocer in the Boro'?"

"The man as had that picter, and a sight more besides. There's one on 'em; the young 'oman a holding an orange in her hand, and a parrot on her shoulder."

"I thought that was the Saccharissa, Mr Howard, that had been in your family ever since the time of Waller."

"I told you he was a wag," said Mr Howard, in the last desperate struggle to avoid detection.

"But who is he? He is a very impudent old man to be so free."

"He is rich; the succession, you know," replied the gentleman with a forced laugh; but before he could mumble any thing more, the party turned round one of the corners of the passage, and heard voices in earnest talk.

"How can I refuse, when you tell me your happiness depends on it?" came distinctly to the ears of all, in the sharp clear tones of Miss Arabel.

"You are too good," replied a voice, which Fanny Smith immediately recognized as that of Charles. “You will make my whole family proud and happy when they hear you have consented."

"But won't you think I yield too soon; and without having asked papa's consent?"

"Ah-yes-I don't know how he will bear the loss of such a treasure. But he will reconcile himself to the want of it when he knows how happy