It is rather a strange thing that a tall man does not “bring down” the scale of a building to the same extent as a tall woman. Probably the dress of the latter is accountable for this. The diminutive scale of the house at Amersham has its counterpart in many Georgian buildings—Hamper Mill and the old school-house at Watford, for instance. Yet we can scarcely charge the architects of that time with an attempt to give a false scale to their buildings, as they seem so well suited to their surroundings. [Illustration: COTTAGES AT LYME REGIS—A FORTIFIED VILLAGE.] LETTERS FROM A LAWYER. PART VII. The Temple. MY DEAR DOROTHY,—It is perfectly astounding to me that people not absolutely devoid of common sense should be taken in by the so-called confidence trick, a device so transparent that it seems incredible that any sane man could be deceived by it. I am bound to say in justice to your sex that I have never heard of a case when a woman was a victim to the confidence trick. I suppose it does not appeal to them in the same way that it seems to do to some men. Perhaps the true explanation of the gullibility of mankind was that given by a rogue who was had up and convicted at the Old Bailey. When asked what he wished to say, why he should not receive punishment for this offence, he replied that he ought to be treated as a great moral teacher, because the confidence trick could only succeed with people who were covetous and desirous of acquiring other people’s money without giving an equivalent for it, and that when they found that they had lost their money, it taught them to be more cautious and less grasping. There was some truth in what this “great moral teacher” said, but unfortunately for him he had also a lesson to learn, and the Recorder gave him several months in which he might give it his careful consideration. The “Free Portrait” scheme is a bait which allures a good many people. They cannot resist the temptation of getting something for nothing. A man calling himself A. Tanquerey or F. Schneider, and giving an address in Paris, is, I believe, the author of this ingenious system of extracting money from the unwilling pockets of the public. He professes in his circulars and advertisements to send you a crayon enlargement of any photograph you send him “absolutely free of charge.” After you have sent him the photograph, which is generally one of special value to yourself, being, we will suppose, the only portrait you possess, of a deceased parent, friend or relation, you receive a letter stating that the portrait is ready and will be forwarded to you on the receipt of two or three guineas for the frame.