we could analyse not only the light but the sounds which come from the most of the planets.'

"You astonish me '

"Fact, old boy; in our orbit round the sun we, at times, got close to several of you (too close as it has turned out), and our instruments, I assure you, enabled us to know what was going on. I will make no comparisons; but you were dull-decidedly, hopelessly dull. Mercury and Mars were lively; Jupiter, very sensible; but you and Saturn, as I said, unquestionably the slowest of the team. Our instruments would scarcely work with you at all. It is not so much the sound as the intelligence which affects them. We tried the House of Commons once; but the result was too dismal.'

"And the British Ass

caught at the word.

-' faltered I; but he

"Quite as bad, quite as bad. Some were heard, no doubt-but frightfully green, and all wrong, though clever lads, in their way.'

"But how came you here?'

"Well, don't hurry me. In our world of Fluoral, we had nothing but intellect-philosophy, the most sublimated and refined. No labour, no work, no law; nothing but intellect. We were divided into two rival factions, the Neverists and Foreverists. The Neverists maintained that our planet Fluoral never

existed. The Foreverists that it would and must exist for ever. I was the leader of the Neverists, and poor Hitch-and-Kick there was the chosen chief of the Foreverists. He and I were rival candidates for the highest professorship in our highest University. I had delivered a masterly address on the non-existence of matter, and Hitch-and-Kick had just proved the eternity of matter, and of that particular sphere of matter called Fluoral, in the precisely identical form which he said it always had presented, and always would present. He concluded amid thunders of applause, which rung in my jealous ears, and even my cultivated reason was half persuaded by the spell, when suddenly came a crash and a rush. We were all crumpled up together. I was conscious of being hurled through space, and shot with a whirr through icy clouds, till at last I rested where you found me, Alas! poor Hitch-and-Kick. Farewell, unlucky Foreverist ! Even this calamity could I stand with. equanimity, couldst thou look up to own that I was right. I knew it could not go for ever-and it didn't!' "But our world will,' said I, with sudden desperation.

"Yours! I could tell you a secret about that. But no; I will not distress you. Bye bye, old goggles.' And with that he made for the door,

"Professor!' I called wildly after him.

"Lauk! what be meister a holloring at?' exclaimed the voice of the kitchenmaid.

"Stop the professor,' roared I.

"Good lack,' screamed the damsel, shrilly, and

I was

banged her door indignantly, as she shut it. alone in my room,—the fire extinguished, the candles burning low, one glass of grog, empty, on the table, but not a trace of the Aerolite."

"I vow, Pemberton, you are asleep."

"Would I were," answered I.

CHAPTER XIX.

EVENING AT HOME.

WE did not go to Mrs Carrington's on Monday,

as Dagentree was engaged in parish business. I therefore, again, wooed the Muse of Justice in the morning, and rode out in the afternoon. My ride was uncomfortable and dreamy. Of what colour my dreams were I cannot be expected to say; or whether Sophia Wendover or Mrs Carrington held the first place there. I fear the blotting-paper bore witness, in the artistic devices with which I had covered it in the morning, to the inconstancy of man. I certainly liked Mrs Carrington very much; there was a fascination about her, which a little overpowered my more sober judgment; for she looked like what I had always dreaded, a woman with a history. Neither did it at all please me that an attorney like Rendelson should be on the terms with her, or have the power over her, which had been indicated at the Dashwoods. But notwithstanding all this, I was, for that afternoon at least, under the spell; and sauntered, with rein

N

relaxed and quiet pace, through the umbrageous lanes which I have described elsewhere.

I was returning homewards, when coming to a sharp angle of the road, masked by a very high hawthorn hedge, I heard voices, apparently in sharp altercation. They were man and woman, and I heard the latter exclaim, as I approached the turn—

"If that be all you can do for me, I'd best go back."

On turning the corner, I came in front of the speakers, who were apparently walking slowly up the road. The man was my friend, the photographer; the woman, a very striking-looking person. She was above the middle height, dark, with flashing eyes, and regular, well-cut features. Her expression was lofty and sorrowful, and her whole appearance suggested Creole blood. All trace of discomposure had left the man's face, if it had ever rested there; but the woman's countenance was still heated and animated with displeasure. The former made no sign of recognition; the latter gazed earnestly at me, although she said nothing. They passed on; and the incident made no impression on me.

The

Our dinner-party proved a great success. Wendover contingent included Mr Wendover himself, his wife, and Sophia of course, looking radiant—a whisper of jealousy said to me, almost triumphant.