There was not a great deal in Will Honeycomb, for instance; but our dear Mr. Spectator tells us somewhere that 'he laughed easily,' which I think quite accounts for his acceptance with the club. He was kindly and enjoying. What is it that makes your dog so charming a companion in your walks? Simply that he thoroughly likes you and enjoys himself. He appeals imperceptibly to your affections, which cannot be stirred--such is God's will--ever so lightly, without some little thrillings of happiness; and through the subtle absorbents of your sympathy he infuses into you something of his own hilarious and exulting spirit. When Stanley Lake saw the vicar, the lines of his pale face contracted strangely, and his wild gaze followed him, and I don't think he breathed once until the thin smiling man in black, with the little gambolling bright boy holding by his hand, had passed by. He was thinking, you may be sure, of his Brother Mark. When Lake had ended his toilet and stared in the glass, he still looked so haggard, that on greeting Mr. Larkin in the parlour, he thought it necessary to mention that he had taken cold in that confounded billiard-room last night, which spoiled his sleep, and made him awfully seedy that morning. Of course, his host was properly afflicted and sympathetic. 'By-the-bye, I had a letter this morning from that party--our common friend, Mr. W., you know,' said Larkin, gracefully. 'Well, what is he doing, and when does he come back? You mean Wylder, of course?' 'Yes; my good client, Mr. Mark Wylder. Permit me to assist you to some honey, you'll find it remarkably good, I venture to say; it comes from the gardens of Queen's Audley. The late marquis, you know, prided himself on his honey--and my friend, Thornbury, cousin to Sir Frederick Thornbury--I suppose you know him--an East Indian judge, you know--very kindly left it at Dollington for me, on his way to the Earl of Epsom's.' 'Thank you--delicious, I'm sure, it has been in such good company. May I see Wylder's note--that is, if there's no private business?' 'Oh, certainly.' And, with Wylder's great red seal on the back of the envelope, the letter ran thus:-- 'DEAR LARKIN,--I write in haste to save post, to say I shall be detained in town a few days longer than I thought. Don't wait for me about the parchments; I am satisfied. If anything crosses your mind, a word with Mr. De C. at the Hall, will clear all up. Have all ready to sign and seal when I come back--certainly, within a week. 'Yours sincerely, 'M. WYLDER, 'London.' It was evidently written in great haste, with the broad-nibbed pen he liked; but notwithstanding the sort of swagger with which the writing marched across the page, Lake might have seen here and there a little quaver--indicative of something different from haste--the vibrations of another sort of flurry. '"Certainly within a week," he writes. Does he mean he'll be here in a week or only to have the papers ready in a week?' asked Lake.