"Oh, dear old Jack has, of course, his own room. Florence arranged it just as it used to be, and before tea came I saw the fire was all right." "I suppose you did not happen to see if Mr. Simpson's fire was all right, Mildred?" said Mr. Wilton, with a sly twinkle in his eye. "No; Ethel did that," she replied, laughing; "besides, with that red face he can't be cold." "Milly, never judge by appearances," interrupted Mrs. Wingfield, who saw by her uncle's face that the conversation was not particularly agreeable to him. Woman-like, she had read him like a book; and, though willing to keep the peace, she had long ago made up her mind that Mildred was to be her brother's wife or an old maid--_aut Cæsar aut nihil_; and having settled this, she set herself down to carry out her plans. "Who is talking about judging by appearances?" put in a manly voice, as Tom Wingfield, somewhat muddy of coat, walked into the room. "I was," said his wife. "I was telling Milly not to judge by appearances, for I thought you a nice fellow once, and--ahem!--I was taken in by your appearance." "All right, Mrs. Impudence," retorted Tom; "no hunting for you. I thought I had two beautiful ladies' hunters, but I was deceived by appearances. Anyhow, let me have a cup of tea. I have given my new nag a lesson he won't forget. He refused that fence out of the road by the windmill, and put me down twice; then tried to bolt for Paradise Hill, but after a fight we got on terms, and he goes like an angel now." "I must make a note of that, Wingfield," interrupted Mr. Wilton. "It is a curious coincidence of an animal being stopped on its way to Paradise, yet suddenly becoming an angel." "Capital text for next Sunday, Wilton," said the Colonel. "But hark! I hear the dog-cart, and here they come round the corner of the drive." "Oh Lord!" ejaculates Tom; "can anyone tell me how gray shirtings are? Must talk to a man who is in the City about shirtings or backwardations, you know. I'll ask Jack what he gave for his flannel shirts." Amid the shouts of laughter which followed this sally the door opened, and the butler announced: "Mr. Simpson and Master Jack." CHAPTER II. OF THE CITY CIVIC. "Delighted to see you, Mr. Simpson," said the Colonel, taking that gentleman's somewhat flabby hand, and introducing him to the others in turn. "Ah Jack, my boy, how are you? I have such a horse for you; but no spurs allowed, mind." "All right, uncle," replied Jack, coming to the fire; "I'll remember. But how are you all? Florence, you are getting most abominably fat. Why, Milly, ain't you going to say How do you do to me?--not that way," as Mildred put out her hand. "I ask you, is that the way to welcome your long-lost cousin? Come to my arms"--a proceeding that he promptly tried to put into force, and had he not stumbled head over heels over Ethel, who from her position on the ground he had not noticed, would have succeeded in his endeavour.