somewhat fixed colour, a fine carriage, and a sustained supply of energy and conversation. Also she was granddaughter of the late Earl of Hollington, and sister to Lady Barre, who entertained so well; but--Miss Barker had no money--was losing her looks and figure, and bore the reputation of a temper, and debts! In spite of her clever manœuvring, and her astonishing aptitude for exacting invitations, favours, presents, and even the use of their carriages, from her circle, Miss Barker’s future was becoming somewhat grey. People were beginning to weary of her company, her stories, her assurance, and herself! when Maudie Sutton--to her supreme joy--presented to her the gallant gentleman, whom she subsequently advertised as “her fate.” She and Maudie, who had been intimates for years, met at the glove-counter of a well-known shop in Knightsbridge. “You got my note, Ju?” said Mrs. Sutton. “I hope you are coming on Friday?” “No, dearest; I am engaged to the Farmers--charades and a dance----” “Oh, never mind the Farmers, Ju,” interrupted Mrs. Sutton; “this little dinner of mine is ten million times more important--and,” she lowered her voice and concluded her speech in a series of somewhat breathless whispers. The young lady over the gloves was curious--evidently something mysterious was afoot! Miss Barker now became all animation and interest, and as she took leave of her friend, she kissed her repeatedly, and said-- “Thank you, dear old Maudie--you are a _real_ friend!” When Major Sutton received his brother officer at the drawing-room door, he said, “Look here, Pat, I owe you ever so many apologies--I guaranteed a family party, and I’ve let you in for a ‘Burra Khana.’ Maudie had arranged it before--better luck next time.” There was indeed a large party at 402 Sloane Street, and Colonel Doran was one of the latest arrivals; he looked very distinguished and soldierly, as he talked to Mrs. Sutton, a vision in yellow and diamonds. “I know you were told we were to be alone,” she said, smiling; “but it makes no matter to a man if there are three, or three hundred--not like us poor women, who have to dress according to numbers. Now I want to introduce you to a most particular old friend of mine, Miss Hollington-Barker,” and she towed him over to a sofa, on which was enthroned a handsome Juno-like form. “Julia--this is Johnny’s comrade, Colonel Doran; you are to be very nice to him, and he will take you down to dinner”; and with an affable smile Mrs. Sutton sailed away and left them. Colonel Doran stood before Julia, lamely discoursing of the rain and the east wind--whilst she figuratively proceeded to take his measure. When she descended the stairs on her cavalier’s arm, Julia Barker had definitely decided that “he would do.”