Mrs. Daniels, who by the way was a widow, and happened to have no other company, was equally desirous of treating "the gentleman " to the treasures of a conversability, it was her boast to possess in no small degree. The good woman bestowed so many smiles and hearty wishes upon her distracted lodger that, however much he might once have imagined her attentions would ultimately flag, he now saw she could spare an immense amount of assiduity, before her agreeableness would suffer by the diminution; and instead of fearing her neglect, his chief apprehension was lest she should prove a continual blister of importunity and annoyance.

The innumerable questions she put to him might have been attributed either to the score of an amiable interest, or to that unquenchable thirst for knowledge, generally designated in the female mind by the uncourteous title of curiosity.

"Had the gentleman a great many boxes?" she asked. "Had he only just

arrived in London?

From what part of the

country did he come? Had he ever been in

London before? Would he take another

cup of tea? another chop?

partial to beef or mutton?

Was he most

Had he any

particular wish to send his linen to a particular laundress ? Did he like his shirts much starched, or rather limp in the collars? Was he in business? Had he travelled much? Had he been to shire? (She came from shire.) Did he wish for a featherbed? Did he know a gentleman of the name of Twopenny?"

As "No" and "Yes" were the monosyllabic replies to almost every one of these questions, Mrs. Daniels never obtained a fair opening for a very consecutive range of conversation. Pierce's yawns, introduced in a gentlemanlike and considerate manner in the beginning, increased in geometrical progression with the length of Mrs. Daniels' visit. He forgot, however, that Mrs. Daniels had not moved in that station of life where he

had learnt the elegant usage of the mute There was no more

language of hints.

connection, in Mrs. Daniels' mind, between the act of twice stretching your jaws and the plain English sentence, "You're a bore," than there would be in any other society between the fact of scratching your nose and the exclamation, "You're an angel." It was only by the industrious repetition of prolonged signs of weariness that Mrs. Daniels at last conceived the notion that her guest might be thinking of bed. The instant she was struck with the idea, her kind heart rebuked her for forgetfulness. She excused herself for leaving him all alone, and promised to return as soon as she had aired the sheets and made the room. Pierce begged her not to trouble herself to come up again that night, adding that he had a few papers to look over, which would probably occupy him till his bed was ready.

When Mrs. Daniels had departed he took the precaution, as soon as she was out of hearing, to turn the key, in order to secure

himself from further intrusion; and, drawing a chair to the table, he examined the packet of letters which for the first time since he had received them, he now had an opportunity of reading. Those amongst the number which may interest us, as well as the rightful owner, we will take the liberty of perusing with him. The first he opened was from Longvale.

"My dear Pierce

"What the deuce has happened to you? We have heard nothing of you since you cleared out, and left us as the shop-boy left his master when he bolted with the till, disconsolate for his loss. Ever since you went away, I have been as dull as ditchwater. As for Eda, I defy any one to make out whether she misses you or not. I don't say this to make you unhappy, old fellow, but I thought you would like to know the truth. Usually she is as chirpy as a cricket, only now and then, when your name is men

tioned, she turns serious. But you know she is hard to read, and sometimes tries to look cheery when she don't feel so a bit. The 'porpoise' went yesterday. We had rather good fun with him after you left. He got awfully spooney on Eda, and as he fancied you had stood in his sunshine while here, he took a dirty advantage of your absence, and said of you what he didn't ought. Of course I wouldn't stand this, nor Eda either; and she, I must say, behaved like a brick about it. When we saw what he was up to, we played him a trick or two that made him start, I can tell you. By backing him up, and patting him on the back, I persuaded him to go in for Eda with a regular burster, and he made such a goose of himself as you never saw.

"You know how enamoured he is of what he has the impudence to call his whiskers, which, after all, are but three hairs on one side of his face, and a place where they ought to be on the other. Well, I persuaded him he would