“Eh, what? Upon my honor it is! Why, Carter, my boy, how are you? Eh, what? Miss Milton, too, I declare! Well, now, what a pity Annie didn’t come!” I disagreed. I hate Annie. But I was very glad to see my friend and neighbor, Robert Dinnerly. He’s a sensible man--his wife’s a little prig. “Oh, Mr. Dinnerly,” cried Miss Milton, “how funny that you should come just now? I was just trying to remember the name of a man Mrs. Dinnerly told me about. I was telling Mr. Carter about him. You know him.” “Well, Miss Milton, perhaps I do. Describe him.” “I don’t believe Annie ever told me his name, but she was talking about him at our house yesterday.” “But I wasn’t there, Miss Milton.” “No,” said Miss Milton, “but he’s got the next place to yours in the country.” I positively leaped from my seat. “Why, good gracious, Carter himself, you mean?” cried Dinnerly, laughing. “Well, that is a good un--ha-ha-ha!” She turned a stony glare on me. “Do you live next to Mr. Dinnerly in the country?” she asked. I would have denied it if Dinnerly had not been there. As it was, I blew my nose. “I wonder,” said Miss Milton, “what has become of Aunt Emily.” “Miss Milton,” said I, “by a happy chance you have enjoyed a luxury. You have told the man what you think of him.” “Yes,” said she; “and I have only to add that he is also a hypocrite.” Pleasant, wasn’t it? Yet Mrs. Hilary says it was my fault. That’s a woman all over! THE LITTLE WRETCH Seeing that little Johnny Tompkins was safely out of the country, under injunctions to make a new man of himself, and to keep that new man, when made, at the Antipodes, I could not see anything indiscreet in touching on the matter in the course of conversation with Mrs. Hilary Musgrave. In point of fact, I was curious to find out what she knew, and supposing she knew, what she thought. So I mentioned little Johnny Tompkins. “Oh, the little wretch!” cried Mrs. Hilary. “You know he came here two or three times? Anybody can impose on Hilary.” “Happy woman I--I mean unhappy man, Mrs. Hilary.” “And how much was it he stole?” “Hard on a thousand,” said I. “For a time, you know, he was quite a man of fashion.” “Oh, I know. He came here in his own hansom, perfectly dressed, and--” “Behaved all right, didn’t he?” “Yes. Of course there was a something.” “Or you wouldn’t have been deceived!” said I, with a smile. “I wasn’t deceived,” said Mrs. Hilary, an admirable flush appearing on her cheeks. “That is to say, Hilary wouldn’t.” “Oh, Hilary! Why didn’t his employers prosecute him, Mr. Carter?” “In the first place, he had that inestimable advantage in a career of dishonesty--respectable relations.” “Well, but still--” “His widowed mother was a trump, you know.” “Do you mean a good woman.” “Doubtless she was; but I mean a good card. However, there was another reason.” “I can’t see any,” declared Mrs. Hilary. “I’m going to surprise you,” said I. “Hilary interceded for him.” “Hilary?”