every now and then threatening letters from him, asking him to step aside and give place to the rightful heir. The present Duke, who is a nice young fellow of about my own age, is vastly amused by Ned's pretensions, and I am sure he would buy a picture of him. At Pebblesdale I sometimes pretend to be the rich Earl of Stranleigh, which causes great hilarity at the tavern, except with old Stover, for he's in deadly earnest, and he knows I'm just fooling."
"Well, Mr. Pitts, I hope to paint so excellent a picture of the bogus Duke of Belmont that the real Duke will be satisfied with it. Thank you so much for your kindness to me. My only anxiety is that I may disappoint you in my water-colours of Pebblesdale, a place which I am sure you are very fond of."
She held out her hand with a smile of farewell.
"There is no fear of your disappointing anybody," said Tom, confidently, taking the offered hand and bidding her good-bye. "I'll see you the day after to-morrow, then?"
Alice Drummond then took leave of the Professor. The two young men strolled to the end of the street, and walked down the Embankment, the house of the great Carlyle not only ignored, but forgotten by them. Stranleigh's hands were clasped behind him, and his head was bent. For a long time neither spoke, then his lordship raised his head.
