THE REAL MR.

GRAY--NURSE BUNDLE REGARDS HIM WITH DISFAVOUR My feelings may therefore be "better imagined than described" when, at about ten o'clock the following morning, my father called me downstairs, and said, with an odd expression on his face, "Regie, Mr.Gray has come." Not for one instant did I in my mind accuse my father of deceiving me.
My faith in him was as implicit as he well deserved that it should be.
Black might be white, two and two might make five, impossible things might be possible, but my father could not be in the wrong.

It was evident that I must have misunderstood him last night.

I looked very crestfallen indeed.
My father, however, seemed particularly cheerful, even inclined to laugh, I thought.

He took my hand and we went to the front door, my heart beating wildly, for I was a delicate unrobust lad yet, far too easily upset and excited.