a kinsman of his own (no Vipont)—Lionel Haughton, son of poor Charlie Haughton, whom you may remember."
Carr Vipont. "Yes, a handsome scamp—went to the dogs. So Darrell takes up Charlie's son—w'hat! as his heir?"
Colonel Morlev. "In his letter to me he anticipated that question in the negative."
Carr Vipont. "Has Darrell any nearer kinsman .'"
Colonel Morley, " Not that I know of,"
Carr Vipont. "Perhaps he will select one of his wife's family for his heir—a Vipont; I should not wonder."
Colonel Morley (dryly). "I should. But why may not Darrell marry again? I always thought he would—I think so still."
Carr Vipont (glancing toward his own daughter Honoria). "Well, a wife well-chosen might restore him to society, and to us. Pity, indeed, that so great an intellect should be suspended —a voice so eloquent hushed. You are right; in this crisis, Guy Darrell once more in the House of Commons, we should have all we require—an orator, a debater! Very odd, but at this moment we have no speakers—we, the Viponts!"
Colonel Morley. "Yourself?"
Carr Vipont. "You are too kind. I can speak on occasions; but regularly, no. Too much drudgery—not young enough to take to it now. So you think Darrell will marry as:ain? A remarkably fine-looking fellow when I last saw him , not old yet; I dare say', well preserved. I wish I had thought of asking him here—Montfort!" (Lord Montfort, with one or two male friends, was passing by toward a billiard-room, open- ing through a side-door from the regular suite)—" Montfort! only think, we forgot to invite Guy Darrell. Is it too late be- fore our party breaks up?"
Lord Montfort (sullenly). "I don't choose Guy Darrell to be invited to my house."
Carr Vipont was literally stunned by a reply so contumacious. Lord Montfort demur at what Carr Vipont suggested! He could not believe his senses.
"Not choose, my dear Montfort! you are joking. A monstrous clever fellow, Guy Darrell, and at this crisis—"
"I hate clever fellows—no such bores!" said Lord Montfort, breaking from the caressing clasp of Carr Vipont, and stalking away.
"Spare your regrets, my dear Carr," said Colonel Morley. "Darrell is not in England—I rather believe he is in Verona." Therewith the Colonel sauntered toward the group gathered
