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 socks at night—his only thought was Cinderella and her diadem of chestnut curls.

He had been several times in front to see her, but he didn't know Mr. Hollins anything like well enough to dare to go behind. And not one of his many friends in the metropolis seemed able and willing to bring him closer to his divinity, with the sole and august exception of Arminius Wingrove.

That is why perhaps the young man ate humble pie ad. lib.

"I've only one afternoon free this month, and that's to-morrah," said Arminius.

Most unfortunate, but it happened that on the morrow the vain young fellow was booked to take Adela and her Cousin Jane from Cumberland, to drink tea at Claridges'.

"Just as you like," said Arminius Wingrove. "My only afternoon."

The young man knitted his brow in grave perplexity.

"I wonder if I could persuade Adela to turn up the other shop and come to the Carlton. It isn't quite playing the game though, is it?—and she mustn't know what for, because if she does I'm bound to get it."

So supremely bored looked Arminius in the stress of these parochial affairs, that like a wise young fellow the heir to the barony decided to curtail them somewhat.

"Yes, I'll be there at five to-morrow, Fat—I should