was only some strong fascination that could have torn him from his enthralling occupation. But, in Society,—that is to say, in the world of Art,—as in the world of Nature, we meet with whirlpools into whose depths people are sucked irresistibly, and glide round and round without the slightest control over their own wills; and it is not improbable but that the affable Canary,—who was a creature of impulse as well as of affections,—had been unconsciously drawn into the vortex of his young mistress's whirlpool of fascinations. Yet, be that as it may, at her summons, "he stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,"—he did not pause for a second or third ring, but, his duty (or whatever you prefer to call it) rising superior to his curiosity, he threw down the "Morning Toast," and immediately responded to the tintinnabular call. As the affable Canary ascended the staircase, he encountered Mr. Percival Wylde descending from his consultation with Doctor Love—and, as appeared from his countenance, already greatly relieved by the Doctor's prescription. Percie, again making use of the abbreviated Alfred Jingle style of address, briefly stated to the affable Canary the urgent necessity there was for perfect secrecy on the subject of the present visit, if Mr. Wylde, senior, should take it into his head to institute inquiries thereon.
"Master and Missis bein' at Siddynam; and Mamselle and Pinner still hout with the young ladies, no one but Miss Fanny and me, Sir, will be aweer of your call," said the affable Canary, summing up the evidence as to the feasibility of putting in a claim for that possibility of being in two places at once, which old Mr. Weller designated by the name of "a alleybi," and so strongly urged upon his son as the only safe outlet for his master,
