Sambo made his appearance with a tray, containing sandwiches, jellies, and some glittering glasses and decanters, on which Joseph Sedley's attention was immediately fixed. When the parents of the house of Sedley returned from their dinner-party, they found the young people so busy in talking, that they had not heard the arrival of the carriage; and Mr. Joseph was in the act of saying, »My dear Miss Sharp, one little teaspoonful of jelly to recruit you after your immense – your – your delightful exertions.«

»Bravo, Jos!« said Mr. Sedley; on hearing the bantering of which well-known voice, Jos instantly relapsed into an alarmed silence, and quickly took his departure. He did not lie awake all night thinking whether or not he was in love with Miss Sharp; the passion of love never interfered with the appetite or the slumber of Mr. Joseph Sedley; but he thought to himself how delightful it would be to hear such songs as those after Cutcherry – what a distinguée girl she was – how she could speak French better than the Governor-General's lady herself – and what a sensation she would make at the Calcutta balls. »It's evident the poor devil's in love with me,« thought he. »She is just as rich as most of the girls who come out to India. I might go further, and fare worse, egad!« And in these meditations he fell asleep.

How Miss Sharp lay awake, thinking, Will he come or not to-morrow? need not be told here. To-morrow came, and, as sure as fate, Mr. Joseph Sedley made his appearance before luncheon. He had never been known before to confer such an honour on Russell Square. George Osborne was somehow there already (sadly »putting out« Amelia, who was writing to her twelve dearest friends at Chiswick Mall), and Rebecca was employed upon her yesterday's work. As Joe's buggy drove up, and while, after his usual thundering knock and pompous bustle at the door, the ex-Collector of Boggley Wollah laboured upstairs to the drawing-room, knowing glances were telegraphed between Osborne and Miss Sedley, and the pair, smiling archly, looked at Rebecca, who actually blushed as she bent her fair ringlets over her knitting. How her heart beat as Joseph appeared, – Joseph, puffing from the staircase in shining, creaking boots, – Joseph, in a new waistcoat, red with heat and nervousness, and blushing behind his wadded neckcloth. It was a nervous moment for all; and as for Amelia, I think she was more frightened than even the people most concerned.

Sambo, who flung open the door and announced Mr. Joseph, followed grinning, in the Collector's rear, and bearing two handsome nosegays of flowers, which the monster had actually had the gallantry to purchase in Covent Garden Market that morning – they were not as big as the haystacks which ladies carry about with them nowadays, in cones of filigree paper; but the young women were delighted with the gift, as Joseph presented one to each with an exceedingly solemn bow.

»Bravo, Jos!« cried Osborne.

»Thank you, dear Joseph,« said Amelia, quite ready to kiss her brother, if he were so minded. (And I think for a kiss from such a dear creature as Amelia, I would purchase all Mr. Lee's conservatories out of hand.)

»O heavenly, heavenly flowers!« exclaimed Miss Sharp, and smelt them delicately, and held them to her bosom, and cast up her eyes to the ceiling, in an ecstasy of admiration. Perhaps she just looked first into the bouquet, to see whether there was a billet-doux hidden among the flowers; but there was no letter.

»Do they talk the language of flowers at Boggley Wollah, Sedley?« asked Osborne, laughing.

»Pooh, nonsense!« replied the sentimental youth. »Bought 'em at Nathan's; very glad you like 'em; and eh, Amelia, my dear, I bought a pine-apple at the same time, which I gave to Sambo. Let's have it for tiffin; very cool and nice this hot weather.«

Rebecca said she had never tasted a pine, and longed beyond everything to taste one.

So the conversation went on. I don't know on what pretext Osborne left the room, or why, presently, Amelia went away, perhaps to superintend the slicing of the pine-apple; but Jos was left alone with Rebecca, who had resumed her work, and the green silk and the shining needles were quivering rapidly under her white slender fingers.

»What a beautiful, byoo-ootiful song that was you sang last night, dear Miss Sharp,« said the Collector. »It made me cry almost; 'pon my honour it did.«

»Because you have a kind heart, Mr. Joseph; all the Sedleys have, I think.«

»It kept me awake last night, and I was trying to hum it this morning in bed; I was, upon my honour. Gollop, my doctor, came in at eleven (for I'm a sad invalid, you know, and see Gollop every day), and, 'gad! there I was singing away like – a robin.«

»O you droll creature! Do let me hear you sing it.«

»Me? No, you, Miss Sharp; my dear Miss Sharp, do sing it.«

»Not now, Mr. Sedley,« said Rebecca, with a sigh. »My spirits are not equal to it; besides, I must finish the purse. Will you help me, Mr. Sedley?« And before he had time to ask how, Mr.