The Twickenham Peerage

Lord Reginald Sherrington keeps a keen eye upon his brother's proceedings. His lordship's generosity has enabled him to marry Lady Violet Howarth, and it is understood that the match is, on the whole, a happy one; but he cannot rid himself of a feeling that the priestly element which rules at Cressland requires attention and constant observation. In which respect he is not impossibly correct.

Miss Desmond is still unmarried. Douglas Howarth is dead. The Marquis seemed by his return to have signed his death warrant. He was never again the man he used to be.

Mr. Merrett flourishes exceedingly. His wife is happy as the day is long. She declares that since her James came home 'for good' she has never known a shadowed hour. May the sunset for her be indefinitely postponed!

Mr. Augustus FitzHoward, whose name is familiar to many of us as the manager of one of our most popular London theatres, when speaking of his friend James Merrett, still proudly proclaims him to be 'the marvel of the age.'

Mr. Merrett sometimes assures Mr. FitzHoward, with a dry little smile, that he has no notion how exact his definition is.

THE END