“Ah,” said the learned Doctor, polishing his eye-glasses, “you have given me an idea. With Miss Smithers’ consent we will file something better than a certified copy of the will—we will file a photographic copy. The inconvenience to Miss Smithers will be trifling, and it may prevent questions being raised hereafter.” “Have you any objections to that, my dear?” asked Lady Holmhurst. “Oh, no, I suppose not,” said Augusta mournfully; “I seem to be public property now.” “Very well, then; excuse me for a moment,” said the learned Doctor. “There is a photographer close by whom I have had occasion to employ officially. I will write and see if he can come round.” In a few minutes an answer came back from the photographer that he would be happy to wait upon Doctor Probate at three o’clock, up to which hour he was engaged. “Well,” said the Doctor, “it is clear that I cannot let Miss Smithers out of the custody of the Court till the photograph is taken. Let me see, I think that yours was my last appointment this morning. Now, what do you say to the idea of something to eat? We are not five minutes drive from Simpson’s, and I shall feel delighted if you will make a pleasure of a necessity.” Lady Holmhurst, who was getting very hungry, said that she should be most pleased, and, accordingly, they all—with the exception of Mr. John Short, who departed about some business, saying that he would return at three o’clock—drove off in Lady Holmhurst’s carriage to the restaurant, where this delightful specimen of the genus Registrar stood them a most sumptuous champagne lunch, and made himself so agreeable, that both the ladies nearly fell in love with him, and even Eustace was constrained to admit to himself that good things can come out of the Divorce Court. Finally, the doctor wound up the proceedings, which were of a most lively order, and included an account of Augusta’s adventures, with a toast.