Lewis, having slipped away for a moment to take leave of Mrs. Arundel, who dismissed him with a parting injunction to take care Ursa Major did not devour Rose, the trio descended the stairs, Frere taking an opportunity to whisper to Lewis, “She was down upon me then in every sense of the word; didn’t believe a woman could get ready in five minutes on any consideration; but your sister has more sense than I ever expected to see under a bonnet, that’s a fact.” “Don’t you think for once you could dispense with that dreadful umbrella?” inquired Lewis, who had imbibed a few Leicesterian prejudices from his residence at Broadhurst. “Dreadful umbrella! why what’s the matter with it?” exclaimed Frere, half unfurling his favourite; “it’s-water-tight, and has a famous strong stick to it; what more do you want in an umbrella, eh?” “It might have been made of silk,” suggested Lewis mildly. “Yes, and be stolen and brought back again regularly three times a week,” returned Frere. “I had a silk one once, and the expense that umbrella was to me, to say nothing of the wear and tear of mind it occasioned, was perfectly terrific. I shudder when I think of it; there are not a dozen cabmen in London who have not received half-a-crown for bringing home that umbrella. It was a regular bottle-imp to me, always being lost and always coming back again. The ’bus conductors knew it by sight as well as they know the Bank; they were for ever laying traps to get it into their possession, with a view to obtain the reward of honesty by bringing it home again. I got rid of it at last, though; I lent it to a fellow who owed me five pounds, and I’ve never seen man, money, or umbrella since. Now this dear old cotton thing, not being worth finding, has never been lost; however, if you’ll promise to take care I have it to-morrow when I call, I’ll leave it here, and if your sister gets wet don’t blame me.” “Rose, will you undertake the heavy responsibility?” asked Lewis. “I think I may safely promise so to do,” was the reply. “There is a little foot page in this establishment in whom I have the greatest confidence, and to his custody will! commit it.” And Frere’s anxious mind being soothed by this assurance, they started on their expedition. Twenty minutes’ brisk walking--which would have been brisker still if Rose had not gently hinted that ladies were not usually accustomed to stride along like postmen; to which suggestion Frere responded with something very like a growl,--twenty minutes’ walking brought them to the very elegant front of Mr. Nonpareil’s shop, where Lewis left the two others. A nice young man, with Hyperion curls outside his head, and nothing save much too high an opinion of himself within, who lounged gracefully behind the counter, replied to Frere’s inquiry “Whether Mr. Nonpareil was at home,” after the fashion of the famous Irish echo, i.e., by another question. Elevating his eyebrows till they almost disappeared in his forest of hair, he drawled out--