As I approached the smithy, late though the hour was (and George

made it a rule to have the fire going by six every morning), no

sound of hammer reached me, and coming into the place, I found it

empty. Then I remembered that to-day George was to drive over to

Tonbridge, with Prudence and the Ancient, to invest in certain

household necessities, for in a month's time they were to be

married.

Hereupon I must needs contrast George's happy future with my

dreary one, and fall bitterly to cursing myself; and, sitting on

the Ancient's stool in the corner, I covered my face, and my

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thoughts were very black.

Now presently, as I sat thus, I became conscious of a very

delicate perfume in the air, and also, that some one had entered

quietly. My breath caught in my throat, but I did not at once

look up, fearing to dispel the hope that tingled within me. So I

remained with my face still covered until something touched me,

and I saw that it was the gold-mounted handle of a whip,

wherefore I raised my head suddenly and glanced up.

Then I beheld a radiant vision in polished riding-boots and

speckless moleskins, in handsome flowered waistcoat and

perfect-fitting coat, with snowy frills at throat and wrists;

a tall, gallant figure, of a graceful, easy bearing, who stood,

a picture of cool, gentlemanly insolence, tapping his boot

lightly with his whip. But, as his eye met mine, the tapping

whip grew suddenly still; his languid expression vanished, he

came a quick step nearer and bent his face nearer my own--a

dark face, handsome in its way, pale and aquiline, with a

powerful jaw, and dominating eyes and mouth; a face (nay, a

mask rather) that smiled and smiled, but never showed the man

beneath.

Now, glancing up at his brow, I saw there a small, newly healed

scar.

"Is it possible?" said he, speaking in that softly modulated

voice I remembered to have heard once before. "Can it be

possible that I address my worthy cousin? That shirt! that

utterly impossible coat and belcher! And yet--the likeness is

remarkable! Have I the--honor to address Mr. Peter Vibart--late

of Oxford?"

"The same, sir," I answered, rising.

"Then, most worthy cousin, I salute you," and he removed his hat,

bowing with an ironic grace. "Believe me, I have frequently

desired to see that paragon of all the virtues whose dutiful

respect our revered uncle rewarded with the proverbial shilling.

Egad!" he went on, examining me through his glass with a great

show of interest, "had you been any other than that same virtuous

Cousin Peter whose graces and perfections were forever being

thrown at my head, I could have sympathized with you, positively

--if only on account of that most obnoxious coat and belcher, and

the grime and sootiness of things in general. Poof!" he

exclaimed, pressing his perfumed handkerchief to his nostrils,

"faugh! how damnably sulphur-and-brimstony you do keep yourself,

cousin--oh, gad!"




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