The intelligent reader will perceive the ravages of Miss Hazeltine.

Gideon had carried Julia straight to Mr Bloomfield's house; and

that gentleman, having been led to understand she was the victim of

oppression, had noisily espoused her cause. He worked himself into

a fine breathing heat; in which, to a man of his temperament, action

became needful.

'I do not know which is the worse,' he cried, 'the fraudulent old

villain or the unmanly young cub. I will write to the Pall Mall and

expose them. Nonsense, sir; they must be exposed! It's a public duty.

Did you not tell me the fellow was a Tory? O, the uncle is a Radical

lecturer, is he? No doubt the uncle has been grossly wronged. But of

course, as you say, that makes a change; it becomes scarce so much a

public duty.'

And he sought and instantly found a fresh outlet for his alacrity. Miss

Hazeltine (he now perceived) must be kept out of the way; his houseboat

was lying ready--he had returned but a day or two before from his usual

cruise; there was no place like a houseboat for concealment; and that

very morning, in the teeth of the easterly gale, Mr and Mrs Bloomfield

and Miss Julia Hazeltine had started forth on their untimely voyage.

Gideon pled in vain to be allowed to join the party. 'No, Gid,' said his

uncle. 'You will be watched; you must keep away from us.' Nor had the

barrister ventured to contest this strange illusion; for he feared if

he rubbed off any of the romance, that Mr Bloomfield might weary of the

167

The Wrong Box