going to say something," says Roland, amiably. "I was mistaken. I will therefore continue. When we have put our beloved father well under the ground I will then be head of this house, and natural guardian to these poor dear girls and, with this prospect in view, I feel even at the present moment a certain responsibility, that compels me to look after their interests and bring this recreant gallant to book."

"Roland, my dear, I wish you would not speak so of your father," puts in mamma, feebly.

"Very well, I won't," returns Roly; "and he shan't be put under ground at all, if you don't wish it. Cremation shall be his fate, and we shall keep his precious ashes in an urn."

"I don't believe Mr. Carrington cares a pin for Dora," says Billy, irrevelantly. "I think he likes Phyllis twice as well."

This remark, though intended to do so, does not act as a bombshell in the family circle; it is regarded as a mere flash in the pan from Billy, and is received with silent contempt. What could a boy know about such matters?"I have a month's leave," Roland informs us presently. "Do you think in that time we could polish it off--courtship, proposal, and wedding? Though," reflectively, "that would be a pity, as by puffing off the marriage for a little while I might then screw another month out of the old boy."

"Just so," I answer, approvingly.

"He is such a desirable young man in every way," says mother, _a propos_ of Mr. Carrington; "so steady, well-tempered, and his house is really beautiful. You know it, Roland--Strangemore--seven miles from this?"

"I think it gloomy," Dora says, quietly. "When I--if I were to--that is---"

"What a charming virtue is modesty!" I exclaim, _sotto voce_.

"Go on, Dora," says Roland, in an encouraging tone. "When you marry Mr. Carrington, what will you do then?"

"Of course I don't see the smallest prospect of it," murmurs Dora, with downcast eyes; "but if I were to become mistress of Strangemore I would throw more light into all the rooms; I would open up windows everywhere and take down those heavy pillars."

"Then you would ruin it," I cry indignantly; "its ancient appearance is its chief charm. You would make it a mere modern dwelling-house; and the pillars I think magnificent."

"_I_ don't," says 

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