“I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners.
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