“If Mrs. Coverdale has lost her husband, really she has found a most attractive substitute--a--it almost seems one of the cases in which such a loss might be considered a gain,” lisped D’Almayne, in so low a tone that Mr. Crane, who was nearly as slow of hearing as he was of understanding, did not catch the remark. “Really quite a touching farewell,” he continued, as Alice, ere she entered the house, shook hands most cordially with her young cavalier; “and the gallant, gay Lothario jumps into the brougham (which, coronet, high-stepping horse, and all, evidently calls him master) and is lost to our admiring gaze.” At this juncture a fat and rosy butler (who looked as if he had been brought up by hand upon Port wine, and had remained faithful to it ever since) flung open the door, and announced Mrs. Coverdale. Throwing off, for once in her life, all coldness and reserve, Kate embraced her cousin warmly, and, holding her by both hands, led her to the sofa. “My dearest child,” she exclaimed, “how delightful it is to see you once again!” “But if I may be permitted,” began Mr. Crane, “if I may be allowed to inquire, what have you done with--or perhaps I should rather say--what has become of our good friend, Mr. Coverdale?” “And how came you in a brougham with a coronet upon it? and who was that handsome and distinguished-looking young exquisite whom you had inveigled into playing courier--eh, Mistress Alice?” inquired Kate, archly. “I expected to find you a pattern wife, and to have your example held up for my imitation twenty times a day; but I have alarmed myself very unnecessarily, it seems.” “Don’t tease, dear,” was the reply; “it was all the fault of that silly husband of mine: he got out at one of the stations, and seduced by the attractions of a restive horse, contrived to be out of the way when the train started, and so I was forced to do the best I could for myself.” “Which theory you reduced to practice by selecting the handsomest young man you could find as a _cavalier servente_,” returned Kate, laughing. “But who is your friend? I hope he is coming to call upon you!” “Oh, yes, he means to call--to-morrow I think he said. I’m glad you consider him handsome: it’s always satisfactory to have one’s taste approved of by one’s friends; and I honestly confess I admire him particularly.” Mr. Crane’s countenance, during this speech of Alice’s, was wonderful to behold; the intense surprise with which he listened to the beginning of it gradually changing to the deepest disgust as she continued, afforded such a clear index to his thoughts that Horace D’Almayne turned away to hide an irrepressible smile, which Kate perceiving, observed with a slight shade of annoyance.-- “And now, having mystified us thoroughly, be kind enough to tell us who the gentleman really is, and how he came to offer you his brougham and his services.”