You're young yet." "Might I arsk," said the solemnly enraged Mr.Silk, "might I arsk you not to be so free with my Christian name ?" "He doesn't like his name now," said Nugent, drawing his chair closer to Miss Kybird's, "and I don't wonder at it.

What shall we call him?
Job?
What's that work you're doing?
Why don't you get on with that fancy waistcoat you are doing for me ?" Before Miss Kybird could deny all knowledge of the article in question her sorely tried swain created a diversion by rising.

To that simple act he imparted an emphasis which commanded the attention of both beholders, and, drawing over to Miss Kybird, he stood over her in an attitude at once terrifying and reproachful.
"Take your choice, Amelia," he said, in a thrilling voice.

"Me or 'im-- which is it to be ?" [Illustration: "Me or 'im--which is it to be ?"] "Here, steady, old man," cried the startled Nugent.

"Go easy." "Me or 'im ?" repeated Mr.Silk, in stern but broken accents.
Miss Kybird giggled and, avoiding his gaze, looked pensively at the faded hearthrug.
"You're making her blush," said Mr.Nugent, sternly.