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 *ing up as though some imp had stuck a pin into his chair.

"My future husband," says I, winningly.

For the best part of a minute a highly comic silence took him. His brow was puckered into creases, as is the way when one is seeking for a jest that is concealed.

"Ha! ha!" he crackled presently, "very good jest indeed, my dear, very good indeed!"

"I am sure I am charmed, my lord, that you appreciate it," I says, "but I have my doubts whether this affair is quite such a jest for poor young Mr. Anthony."

"Not if you marry him, I daresay," says his lordship naughtily.

"Well, my lord," says I, "just to be as brief as possible, I desire you to see his Majesty at once and procure my future husband's pardon."

My lord took forth a red silk handkerchief and slowly wiped his wig.

"This comes of excessive beauty in a daughter," he commented. "Lord, 'tis a mercy to have 'em plain. My dear child, go and put a powder in your milk and sleep off this attack. Frankly, I do not like it. Or stay, shall I send for Paradise? It were well, perhaps, an your tongue were instantly inspected."

"Papa," says I, with awful gravity, "you appear to forget that the first duty of a parent is to be obedient. I command you, sir, to get you to town by to-morrow morning's mail."