Dreadful Suspicions aroused in Anxious Bosoms.

When Miss Peppy came down to breakfast next morning she found that she was the first of the household to make her appearance. This, however, was the natural consequence of her commendable desire to be always in good time—a desire which resulted in her being at least a quarter of an hour too soon for everything, except on those occasions, of course, when she over-slept, or was detained by unavoidable circumstances.

On the present occasion Miss Peppy, having had a remarkably good night’s rest, felt placid, and looked serene. She passed the spare quarter of an hour in perambulating the room, looking at the books and pictures, smoothing her cuffs, arranging her cap, and paying marked attention to a beautiful little dog which was Bella’s own particular pet, and the colonel’s particular abhorrence, because of its tendency to bark suddenly, sharply, and continuously at every visitor who entered the house.

Rosebud, (for thus was it misnamed), seemed to be, however, in no mood to receive attentions that morning. It was evidently ill at ease, without apparently knowing why.

“Did it growl, then?” said Miss Peppy in a reproachful tone, as she stooped to pat the head of the spoiled creature. “Ah, it mustn’t growl, for that is naughty, you know, darling Rosebud. Eh! doing it again? Oh! bad little snarley-warley, growly-wowly. Doesn’t it know that the poet says ‘dogs delight to bark and bite?’ and that—that—he means that they shouldn’t delight to do such naughtinesses, although, after all, why they shouldn’t when it’s natural to them I don’t know; and, besides, how does he know that they delight to do it? I never saw them look delighted in my life; on the contrary, they’re very fierce, are they not, Rosebud? especially the big ones that sometimes try to worry you. How they can ever want to worry such a pitty-itty, dear, naughty growly-wowly, snarley-warley as you, is quite beyond my comprehension; but then, you see, we live in a world of puzzles, you and I, Rosebud, and so it’s of no use being puzzled, because that does no good, and only worries one. Don’t it, deary sweety petty? Well, you can’t answer of course, though I know that you understand every word I say.”

Miss Peppy suddenly shrieked, for the “sweety petty” bit her with sufficient force to show that he was not in a mood to be played with, and would do it harder next time.

Just then the colonel entered, and Rosebud at once received him with a tornado of maddening yelps, so that for at least five minutes it had the entire monopoly of the conversation, and Miss Peppy was obliged to say good-morning in dumb show. At the same time, the colonel frowned fiercely at Rosebud, and said something which Miss Peppy could not hear because of the noise, but which, from the abrupt motion of the lips, she suspected must be something very wicked indeed.

When the darling creature at last consented to hold its tongue, the colonel said—

“Are you aware, Miss Stuart, that your nephew has been out all night?”

“No, colonel, I was not aware of it,” said Miss Peppy with a slight elevation of her eyebrows; “I wonder at it, for although he often goes out all night to ride wild horses into the sea, and save drowned people, and things of that sort, he never goes out without telling Niven, and saying whether or not he’s likely to be back soon. Besides, he always has the door-key in his pocket, when he doesn’t forget it, which is pretty often. Perhaps he had your door-key in his pocket, but after all, even if he had, that wouldn’t alter the fact that he’s been out all night. But maybe he’s in bed—did you look?”

“Yes, I looked, and he has evidently not lain on the bed at all last night.”

“Under it?” suggested Miss Peppy.

The colonel smiled slightly, and said that it had not occurred to him to look under the bed.

At that moment the door burst open, and Bella’s maid, rushing in, flung herself on her knees at the colonel’s feet, and, clasping her hands, cried in piteous tones—

“Oh! sir, please, mercy please.”

“Are you mad, girl?” said the colonel, with a look of mingled displeasure and anxiety.

“Oh, si............