early in the afternoon, that Mr. Drax should be
invited to supper, and in pursuance of the
resolution unanimously arrived at in solemn family
council, Miss Barbara Bunnycastle had, in her
own exquisite (though somewhat attenuated)
Italian hand, written to him, "Dear Mr. Drax,
pray come to supper, as soon after nine as ever
you possibly can.  We want so very much to see
you, and consult with you on a most particular
and important matter."  The original under-
scorings are Miss Barbara Bunnycastle's, and
not mine.

This missive, signed with the initials B. B.,
and "your ever faithfully," and sealed with
Barbara's own signet, bearing the charming enough
little motto of "Dinna forget", was duly
despatched at tea-time by the page and knife-boy
(the only male creature, with the exception of the
gardener, who came once a week for four hours,
forming part of the Rhododendronian retinue)
to Mr. Drax's surgery or shop in College-street;
and punctually at half-past nine, the discreet
apothecary made his appearance in the little
back parlour.  He had as small an appetite—
or, in his discretion, chose to be as abstemious—
as the Bunnycastles themselves; and so, after
he had consumed a very thin slice of the
grinning mutton, and sipped a very small quantity
of the table-ale, Miss Adelaide Bunnycastle
mixed him, with her own fair hands (never mind
if they were slightly bony), a tumbler full of
the warm, colourless, but comforting mixture
which her mamma was in the habit of imbibing
after supper.  Then the conversation, which had
hitherto been fitful and desultory, became
concentrated and engrossing.

"Did you ever hear of such a strange
romantic affair?" asked Miss Adelaide.

"Only fancy," Miss Celia continued, "no
name given—at least, no real one—no address,
no references, but an offer of fifty guineas a
year, payable in advance, for a little girl not
yet four years of age."

"And such a beautiful spoken gentleman is
the dark one," remarked Barbara.

"And so beautifully spoken is the one with
the bald head," interposed Adelaide.

"Rubbish, girls," quoth good Mrs. Bunnycastle.
"The bald-headed one isn't a gentleman
at all.  He's the dark one's man-servant."

"He has lovely eyes," pleaded Barbara, "and
charming teeth, and an angel smile."

"He wears a diamond ring as big as a four-
penny-piece," said the practical Adelaide.

"I tell you he's nothing but the other one's
valet.  He as much as owned it to me, the last
time he was here.  But, master or man, it
doesn't much matter.  Do tell us now, my dear
doctor, whether we ought to take this little
girl or not?"

All Mr. Drax's discretion was required to
enable him to give this interrogation a fitting
reply.  He stroked his chin with his hands, and
crossed the foot of one leg over the knee of the
other, his favourite attitude when in profound
meditation.  Then he softly swayed his discreet
head upward and downward, as though he were
weighing the pros and cons of the momentous
question.  The Bunnycastles regarded him with
anxious interest. They had unlimited
confidence in his discretion.  At last the wise man
spake.

"Your usual sums, my dear Mrs. Bunnycastle,
are—"

"We say forty, and take thirty, or whatever
we can get," the lady superior responded, with
a sigh. "Miss Furblow, it is true, pays fifty;
but then she's a parlour-boarder, and her father
a purse-proud tradesman, with more money
than wit."

"Parents are growing stingier and stingier
every day," added Adelaide. "They think washing
costs nothing, and they won't even pay for
a seat at church, or for stationery.  That's why
we've adopted the viva voce system of instruction,
and so saved half the copybooks."

"They have the impudence to come and tell
us that there are schools advertised, with
unlimited diet, twenty-seven acres of ground, a
carriage kept, lectures by university professors,
weekly examinations by a clergyman, a drill-
sergeant to teach calisthenics, milk from the
cow, and all the accomplishments, including the
harmonium and the Indian sceptre, for sixteen
pounds a year.  And no vacations, and the
quarter to commence from the day of entrance!"

"I wonder what they feed the children upon?"
quotes Miss Barbara, disdainfully: "snips and
snails, and puppy-dogs' tails, I should imagine."

"I thank Heaven we have never advertised,"
remarked, with proper pride, Mrs. Bunnycastle.
"That degradation has at least been spared the
principals of Rhododendron House."

"Which always will continue to be exempt
from such a humiliation,"  Mr. Drax put in,
with a decided bow.  "Advertising has been
overdone, even in the case of patent
medicines."

The discreet Drax had committed one
indiscretion in the course of his professional career.
He had dreamed of a Pill which should eclipse
the renown of all other pills, which should be
vended by millions of boxes at one shilling and
a penny-halfpenny each (government stamp
included), and which should realise a rapid and
splendid future for himself.  Drax's Antiseptic,
Antizymotic, Antivascular Herbal Pills were
launched, but did not attain success.  Either
they were not advertised enough, or they were
puffed through wrong channels.  The pills were
a sore point with Drax; and his cellar was full
of them.  I hope the constitution of the rats
benefited by their consumption, and that the old
women supplied with the pills at Mr. Drax's
gratuitous consultations were likewise the better
for them.

"Well, doctor, what do you say?"  Miss
Adelaide continued.

"Your terms are forty, and you take thirty,
making even a further reduction when vacancies
are numerous, and an increase in numbers is
desirable.  You had rather a bad time last quarter
but one, when, scarlet fever having broken out,
of thirty-eight pupils who were sent home to