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Rh he was a good deal away from his own house at the present moment.

"Politics make a terrible demand on a man's time," he said to his wife, and then went down to dine at his club in Pall Mall with sundry other young philogeants. On men of that class politics do make a great demand—at the hour of dinner and thereabouts.

"What do you think of Miss Dunstable?" said Mrs. Gresham to her uncle, as they sat together over their coffee. She added nothing to the question, but asked it in all its baldness.

"Think about her!" said the doctor. "Well, Mary, what do you think about her? I dare say we think the same."

"But that's not the question. What do you think about her? Do you think she's honest?"

"Honest? Oh yes, certainly—very honest, I should say."

"And good-tempered?"

"Uncommonly good-tempered."

"And affectionate?"

"Well, yes—and affectionate. I should certainly say that she is affectionate."

"I'm sure she's clever."

"Yes, I think she's clever."

"And, and—and womanly in her feelings," Mrs. Gresham felt that she could not quite say lady-like, though she would fain have done so had she dared.

"Oh, certainly," said the doctor. "But, Mary, why are you dissecting Miss Dunstable's character with so much ingenuity?"

"Well, uncle, I will tell you why; because—" and Mrs. Gresham, while she was speaking, got up from her chair, and going round the table to her uncle's side, put her arm round his neck till her face was close to his, and then continued speaking as she stood behind him out of his sight—"because—I think that Miss Dunstable is—is very fond of you, and that it would make her happy if you would—ask her to be your wife."

"Mary!" said the doctor, turning round with an endeavor to look his niece in the face.

"I am quite in earnest, uncle—quite in earnest. From little things that she has said, and little things that I have seen, I do believe what I now tell you."