solation to me—of course somebody else went and took it, that's all!"
Janet and Rose tried to catch their mother's eye, but she was looking compassionately at Willis, the exile of Pleasance.
"It is a Lord Something who has taken it. Mercy me, what a head I have, I remember nothing! What was his name? It was one of our great towns, Lord Leeds, Lord York, Lord Birmingham—could it be either of those?"
"As there are no such people I should think not. I do wish, Mrs. H., I could persuade you to read the 'Peerage' a little more, these blunders annoy me."
"Law, Willis, you'll be a conjuror if you persuade me to read it at all. You might as well ask me to read a list of Red Morocco Chiefs," (Mrs. Hopkinson somehow fancied that the Morocco population was bright scarlet). "I am just as likely to see them as all those peers you are always studying."
"My studies are of a far more serious class," he said tartly; "the 'Peerage' is not
