"Half thought I should have seen Charley Melton here; perhaps he has started for Italy after all," said Tom, who had gone straight to Barker's and engaged in a game of pool. "Might have stirred him up, but he don't seem to mind it a bit. Well, no wonder, seeing how he was treated." "Red upon white; yellow's your player," said the marker, and Tom went up to make the stroke required of him; then he turned once more to glance at the table next to him, and watched two or three of the bets made. "Past ten," he said to himself, glancing at his watch. "That's getting back to dinner. Never mind, I'm not the party wanted by her ladyship. Charley must have known she was to be married to-morrow. I liked him too," he said, gazing at the players. "He's a big, strong, noble-looking fellow. Ah, well! I suppose that's because I'm little. One mustn't go by outside appearances. Perhaps it's all for the best." Just then a friend proposed that they should drop in at one of the theatres and see the new burlesque; and after a little hesitation Tom consented to go. After this a kidney had to be eaten at a tavern; so that it was one o'clock when he reached home, to find the lights burning, and a cluster of servants in the hall. "Hallo, Robbins, what's up? House on fire?" he cried, as the butler admitted him, looking very solemn and troubled. "No, my lord. Oh, dear no." "Don't be an old image. What is it? Sir Grantley had a fit?" "My young lady, my lord," said the butler in a solemn, mysterious whisper. "Not ill--not ill?" cried Tom, excitedly. "No, my lord," said the butler, "not ill, but--" "Confound you, you great pump. Speak out," cried Tom, angrily. "Gone, my lord--been missing hours. Her ladyship has been having fit after fit, and his lordship is 'most beside himself." "Bolted!" exclaimed Tom; and, running into the dining-room, he threw himself into a chair and laughed till his sides ached. "Poor Wilters! oh, Lord, what a game! Cut!--skimmed!" He got up, and stamped round the room in the very ecstasy of delight, "The little smug hypocrite!" he said. "That's why she was so sanctified and sad to-day. Well, bless her, I like her pluck. Sold, my lady, sold!" He suddenly woke up to the fact that he ought to go upstairs, and, turning serious, he walked into the hall. "Where's her ladyship, Robbins?" he asked. "Upstairs, my lord." "Where's Sir Grantley?" "Went out, my lord, about ten, to find that tail, straight man, sir, as came--Mr Hurkle." "And he hasn't found him?" "No, my lord, I s'pose not." "Good job too," said Tom, shortly, and running upstairs he entered the drawing-room so suddenly that her ladyship, who was lying upon a sofa, being fanned by Tryphie, began to shriek. "There, don't make that row, mother," said Tom, coarsely. "Hang it all, what a smell of lavender!" "Is that you, Tom?" sobbed her ladyship, as Justine came in with a bottle of hot water to apply to her mistress' feet.