tioned, being quite able to substantiate them to my own satisfaction, especially as I was leaning out of the front window, and saw the end I have described. What I wished to inquire is whether you have any clue to the gentleman's identity and residence."

"And what if I have a clue?"

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Why, then, I shall take great pleasure in waiting upon him and expressing my opinions by the aid of a horsewhip."

At this I suddenly forgot all my wrath at Sir Miles and turned it on Mr. Franklin.

"Is it then so uncommon for a gentleman to kiss a kitchenmaid? Have you kept all your kisses for your grandmother?"

At this Mr. Franklin flushed a trifle, but answered: "My conduct is not in question. I have seen an insult to a lady whom I esteem precisely esteem - but admire, and I propose to chastise the insulter."

no, not

"But he did not know that I was a lady."

"How far did he walk with you?'

29

"From High Street, a matter of a mile." "Walked a mile with you and did not know you from a kitchenmaid! The fellow must be a dolt and scarce worth the horsewhip. Did he not hear your voice?"

"I disguised it.”

"A sign which should have put him on his guard at once. A disguised voice always betrays itself by rising and falling when it should not, and breaking now and then to natural, and why should a kitchenmaid take trouble to disguise her voice?”

“Well, then, admit once and for all that Sir Miles was a dolt and a dullard. At least he was a gentleman, for he would not let me answer a question on which his curiosity was as great as yours, Mr. Franklin; but as I said, he was a gentleman, and perhaps thorough breeding in men, as in dogs, tends to make the nature better than the brains."

"Sir Miles!" echoed Mr. Franklin. "So you knew his name. And would you have me believe that a gentleman, one of your simon pure, thoroughbred variety, where the nature is so much better than the brains, took the trouble to announce his title to a kitchenmaid. Perhaps he

wished her mistress to hear it."

I saw with joy that the last part of my speech had stung Mr. Franklin, and as fast as he lost self-control I gained it.

"You are right," said I. "He did wish her mistress to know, and he gave me his card with his address on it for her."

"Will you not find difficulty in delivering it?"

"I shall not deliver it. I shall keep it myself." "That is not honest."

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Thanks! I will be my own judge of honesty, and when I need counsel I will ask it, but not of a youth who wins a reputation for wisdom by observing solemnly that a cheese comes from a shop and is not home-made, when he has seen it brought into the house. No, no, Mr. Franklin. Leave me my own riddles and keep yours to the ones you print at Watts's!"

With that, as Mr. Pope was leaving, Mr. Franklin was compelled to take his leave also.

Mr. Pope took my hand very kindly as he passed out. "I have been talking with your mother," he said, "of a visit to my mother at Twickenham; and while she pleads the excuse of gout for herself she could think of none in time for you, so it is arranged, I hope not to your misliking, that you are to come out soon for two or three days with Miss Martha Blount, who is to drive in a post-chaise and will be glad of your company."

"Oh, Sir!" I exclaimed, "what a joy to exchange London for Twickenham!"

"You may well say so," answered Pope, smiling. Twickenham in this spring weather is a sight worth seeing. Our river glitters beneath an unclouded sun, our gardens are offering their

first nosegays, and the birds are paying their thanksgiving songs for the new habitations I have made them. Moreover, you shall follow the example of my trees which, like new acquaintances brought happily together, are stretching out their arms to each other and growing nearer every hour. So I trust it will be with you and the new friends you meet at Twickenham."

As he finished, he made me a low bow and was gone before I could properly thank him. Indeed, I doubt if I could have done so had I had the whole evening before me. The prospect which he held out seemed so wonderful. My mother, whose spirits were not easily set to the tune of gaiety, roused herself to a pitch of excitement unusual for her and began at once on the question of my wardrobe. Until she spoke I had quite forgotten that I possessed nothing fit to be seen in company, and I was almost ready to be cast down again; but she bade me cheer up, and leading me to her closet opened a box wherein were several gowns, to my eyes the finest in the world. One was of blue brocaded with silver flowers, and another of rose coloured paduasoy, with a velvet scarf lined with shot silk to be worn over it."

"It is a pity," said my mother, as she shook out the gown, "that you are taller than I and