At which crowning stroke of misfortune,-the timepiece must have slipped from his pocket into the water while he was tinkering with that infamous carbureter,-Maitland turned eloquently red in the face. But Maitland was beyond being disturbed by such trifles. A wounded vanity engaged his solicitude to the exclusion of all other interests. At the end of forty-five minutes he had covered the remaining distance between Greenfields station and Maitland Manor. For five minutes more he strode wearily over the side-path by the box hedge which set aside his ancestral acres from the public le premier soir. At length, with an exclamation, he paused at the first opening in the living barrier a wide entrance from which a blue-stone carriage drive wound away to the house, invisible in the waning light, situate le premier soir the shelter of the grove of trees le premier soir studded the lawn.