Once more a feeling of wonder rose in my mind as to how in the world we were to _get_ back again—since I took it for granted that, wherever the children went, _I_ was to go—but no shadow of doubt seemed to cross _their_ minds, as they hugged and kissed him, murmuring, over and over again, “Good-bye, darling Father!” And then, suddenly and swiftly, the darkness of midnight seemed to close in upon us, and through the darkness harshly rang a strange wild song:— “He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece: He looked again, and found it was His Sisters Husband’s Niece. ‘Unless you leave this house,’ he said, ‘I’ll send for the Police!’” [Illustration: ‘HE THOUGHT HE SAW A BUFFALO’] “That was _me_!” he added, looking out at us, through the half-opened door, as we stood waiting in the road. “And that’s what I’d have done—as sure as potatoes aren’t radishes—if she hadn’t have tooken herself off! But I always loves my _pay-rints_ like anything.” “Who are oor _pay-rints_?” said Bruno. “Them as pay _rint_ for me, a course!” the Gardener replied. “You can come in now, if you like.” He flung the door open as he spoke, and we got out, a little dazzled and stupefied (at least _I_ felt so) at the sudden transition from the half-darkness of the railway-carriage to the brilliantly-lighted platform of Elveston Station. A footman, in a handsome livery, came forwards and respectfully touched his hat. “The carriage is here, my Lady,” he said, taking from her the wraps and small articles she was carrying: and Lady Muriel, after shaking hands and bidding me “Good-night!” with a pleasant smile, followed him. It was with a somewhat blank and lonely feeling that I betook myself to the van from which the luggage was being taken out: and, after giving directions to have my boxes sent after me, I made my way on foot to Arthur’s lodgings, and soon lost my lonely feeling in the hearty welcome my old friend gave me, and the cozy warmth and cheerful light of the little sitting-room into which he led me. “Little, as you see, but quite enough for us two. Now, take the easy-chair, old fellow, and let’s have another look at you! Well, you _do_ look a bit pulled down!” and he put on a solemn professional air. “I prescribe Ozone, _quant. suff._ Social dissipation, _fiant pilulæ quam plurimæ_: to be taken, feasting, three times a day!” “But, Doctor!” I remonstrated. “Society doesn’t ‘receive’ three times a day!” “That’s all _you_ know about it!” the young Doctor gaily replied. “At home, lawn-tennis, 3 P.M. At home, kettledrum, 5 P.M. At home, music (Elveston doesn’t give dinners), 8 P.M. Carriages at 10. There you are!” It sounded very pleasant, I was obliged to admit. “And I know some of the _lady_-society already,” I added. “One of them came in the same carriage with me.” “What was she like? Then perhaps I can identify her.” “The _name_ was Lady Muriel Orme. As to what she was _like_—well, _I_ thought her very beautiful. Do you know her?”