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Rh home. There was a sweetness in his character which endeared him readily to women; though, as we have seen, there was a want of something to make one woman cling to him. He could be soft and pleasant-mannered. He was fond of making himself useful, and was a perfect master of all those little caressing modes of behaviour in which the caress is quite impalpable, and of which most women know the value and appreciate the comfort. By the time that they had reached Paris John had told Mrs. Arabin the whole story of Lily Dale and Crosbie, and Mrs. Arabin had promised to assist him, if any assistance might be in her power.

"Of course I have heard of Miss Dale," she said, "because we know the De Courcys." Then she turned away her face, almost blushing, as she remembered the first time that she had seen that Lady Alexandrina De Courcy whom Mr. Crosbie had married. It had been at Mr. Thorne's house at Ullathorne, and on that day she had done a thing which she had never since remembered without blushing. But it was an old story now, and a story of which her companion knew nothing,—of which he never could know anything. That day at Ullathorne Mrs. Arabin, the wife of the Dean of Barchester, than whom there was no more discreet clerical matron in the diocese, hadboxed a clergyman's ears!

"Yes," said John, speaking of Crosbie, "he was a wise fellow; he knew what he was about; he married an earl's daughter."

"And now I remember hearing that somebody gave him a terrible beating. Perhaps it was you?"

"It wasn't terrible at all," said Johnny.

"Then it was you?"

"Oh, yes; it was I."

"Then it was you who saved poor old Lord De Guest from the bull?"

"Go on, Mrs. Arabin. There is no end of the grand things I've done."

"You're quite a hero of romance."

He bit his lip as he told himself that he was not enough of a hero. "I don't know about that," said Johnny. "I think what a man ought to do in these days is to seem not to care what he eats and drinks, and to have his linen very well got up. Then he'll be a hero." But that was hard upon Lily.

"Is that what Miss Dale requires?" said Mrs. Arabin.

"I was not thinking about her particularly," said Johnny, lying.

They slept a night in Paris, as they had done also at Turin,—Mrs.