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 "Only one, Sir Frederick." It was directed to

", "&c., &c., &c., "352, Lancaster Gate, W."

"Only a knight, eh? Well, it might be worse—I suppose I've been a sheriff. Now to surprise Louisa!"

He ran upstairs without stopping to examine the pictures in the hall, or the handsome bust of himself on the first landing. He entered the drawing-room, a spacious apartment tastefully furnished in French grey satin and ebony, but it was empty. As he turned from the room he met a nursemaid coming downstairs with two children, a girl of three and a boy of two, whom he had not had the pleasure of seeing before.

"Papa tum 'ome!" cried the little boy. And the two children, released by their nurse, ran and possessed themselves of his two legs.

"Papa tiss Tiny!" said the little girl, making vigorous efforts to swarm up his right leg.

"My dear child," said Freddy, who had a pleasant way with children, "I'm not your papa."

The nurse smiled a weak smile, as who should say, "Master's joke is always so amusingly chosen."

"Yes, yes—you papa!" chorused the two children, with an emphasis which carried conviction with it.

"Whose children are these, nurse?" said Freddy.

"I'm sure I can't say, sir," replied the woman with an agreeable simper, as humouring her master's whim.

"Don't be a dashed fool, girl," said Freddy, losing his temper. "Whose are they—tell me directly?"