"Mr Hazeldean! Mr Hazeldean! I'm shocked at you," cried the Parson; and, putting his lips close to the Squire's ear, he went on in a whisper--"What an example to your son! You'll have him fighting duels one of these days, and nobody to blame but yourself." This warning cooled Mr Hazeldean; and, muttering, "Why the deuce did you set me off?" he fell back into his chair, and began to fan himself with his pocket-handkerchief. The Parson skilfully and remorselessly pursued the advantage he had gained. "And now, that you may have it in your power to show civility and kindness to a boy whom Mr Egerton has taken up, out of respect to his wife's memory--a kinsman, you say, of your own--and who has never offended you--a boy whose diligence in his studies proves him to be an excellent companion to your son;--Frank," (here the Parson raised his voice,) "I suppose you wanted to call on young Leslie, as you were studying the county map so attentively?" "Why, yes," answered Frank, rather timidly, "if my father did not object to it. Leslie has been very kind to me, though he is in the sixth form, and, indeed, almost the head of the school." "Ah," said Mrs Hazeldean, "one studious boy has a fellow-feeling for another; and though you enjoy your holidays, Frank, I am sure you read hard at school." Mrs Dale opened her eyes very wide, and stared in astonishment. MRS HAZELDEAN retorted that look with great animation. "Yes, Carry," said she, tossing her head, "though you may not think Frank clever, his masters find him so. He got a prize last half. That beautiful book, Frank--hold up your head, my love--what did you get it for?" FRANK, reluctantly.--"Verses, ma'am." MRS HAZELDEAN, with triumph.--"Verses!--there, Carry, verses!" FRANK, in a hurried tone.--"Yes, but Leslie wrote them for me." MRS HAZELDEAN, recoiling.--"O Frank! a prize for what another did for you--that was mean." FRANK, ingenuously.--"You can't be more ashamed, mother, than I was when they gave me the prize." MRS DALE, though previously provoked at being snubbed by Harry, now showing the triumph of generosity over temper.--"I beg your pardon, Frank. Your mother must be as proud of that shame as she was of the prize." Mrs Hazeldean puts her arm round Frank's neck, smiles beamingly on Mrs Dale, and converses with her son in a low tone about Randal Leslie. Miss Jemima now approached Carry, and said in an "aside,"--"But we are forgetting poor Mr Riccabocca. Mrs Hazeldean, though the dearest creature in the world, has such a blunt way of inviting people--don't you think if you were to say a word to him, Carry?" MRS DALE kindly, as she wraps her shawl round her.--"Suppose you write the note yourself. Meanwhile, I shall see him, no doubt." PARSON, putting his hand on the Squire's shoulder.--"You forgive my impertinence, my kind friend. We parsons, you know, are apt to take strange liberties, when we honour and love folks, as I do you."