When tea was over and cleared away the young lady placed her elbows on the table, and resting her pretty face between her hands, said: "I know you are dying to hear all about me—and I will tell you." "May I smoke?" inquired the master of the house. "Certainly you may, and I will keep you company," was the startling rejoinder, as Angel suddenly produced a pretty silver cigarette-case, held out her hand for a match, and proceeded to light up. "You must know"—here she blew a cloud—"if you did not guess it from my letters, that granny and I did not hit it off. Of course my holidays were like trial trips, and nothing really to go by; our boilers did not explode, and we did not ram one another; but when I left Wimbledon last Christmas, and became a permanent affliction in Hill Street, it was different. I was too independent for granny; I did not take to racing, or cards, or the young men of her set." "But they took to you, by all accounts," interposed her listener. "Oh, yes; but I soon let them see that the three-tailed Basha—pick up my handkerchief—come when you're called—style they affected to other girls would not go down with me. I snubbed them severely for a little change, and they liked it; the more I snubbed them, the more they grovelled, thankful for a word, ready to die for a smile. That is the attitude young men should assume towards young ladies," and Angela blew a ring of smoke, and watched it with calm approval. "When I came away, snubbing was the latest craze—the rage." "It would depend upon who she was," said Gascoigne. "How would it work if the young lady were snub-nosed?" "Oh—that is too difficult a question," said Angela with a gesture of fatigue. "Why were you so death on these unfortunate youths? Why did they not meet with your approval?" "Who could approve of creatures with a quarter of a yard of collar, and an inch of forehead, and whose only two adjectives were 'rippin' and 'rotten'?" demanded Angel. "Granny was vexed because I would not afford her the glory of a fashionable wedding, for she looked upon my obstinacy as a sinful waste of good matches. I would not marry myself," continued the girl imperturbably, "but I got Aunt Eva married—not quite the same thing in granny's eyes! Oh, she _was_ furious. Her match-making fizzled out"—extending her hand dramatically—"but mine was a grand success." "So Eva married the doctor after all?"