CHAPTER XXXIII.
Seventh .-- Yes, I will hope! To-night I heard Grimsby and Hattersley grumbling together about the inhospitality of their host.

They did not know I was near, for I happened to be standing behind the curtain in the bow of the window, watching the moon rising over the clump of tall dark elm-trees below the lawn, and wondering why Arthur was so sentimental as to stand without, leaning against the outer pillar of the portico, apparently watching it too.
'So, I suppose we've seen the last of our merry carousals in this house,' said Mr.Hattersley; 'I thought his good-fellowship wouldn't last long.
But,' added he, laughing, 'I didn't expect it would meet its end this way.

I rather thought our pretty hostess would be setting up her porcupine quills, and threatening to turn us out of the house if we didn't mind our manners.' 'You didn't foresee this, then ?' answered Grimsby, with a guttural chuckle.

'But he'll change again when he's sick of her.

If we come here a year or two hence, we shall have all our own way, you'll see.' 'I don't know,' replied the other: 'she's not the style of woman you soon tire of.