‘There was a little lull, out of respect to the Vicar’s grief, in the visiting. It gave time to Mrs. Rose to soften down the anguish of her weeds.

‘At Christmas, Miss Tomkinson sent out invitations for a party. Miss Caroline had once or twice apologised to me because such an event had not taken place before; but, as she said, “the avocations of their daily life prevented their having such little réunions except in the vacations.” And, sure enough, as soon as the holidays began, came the civil little note:

‘“The Misses Tomkinson request the pleasure of Mrs. Rose’s and Mr. Harrison’s company at tea, on the evening of Monday, the 23rd inst. Tea at five o’clock.”

‘Mrs. Rose’s spirit roused, like a war-horse at the sound of the trumpet, at this. She was not of a repining disposition, but I do think she believed the party-giving population of Duncombe had given up inviting her, as soon as she had determined to relent, and accept the invitations, in compliance with the late Mr. Rose’s wishes.

‘Such snippings of white love-ribbon as I found everywhere, making the carpet untidy! One day, too unluckily, a small box was brought to me by mistake. I did not look at the direction, for I never doubted it was some hyoscyamus which I was expecting from London; so I tore it open, and saw inside a piece of paper, with “No more grey hair,” in large letters, upon it. I folded it up in a hurry, and sealed it afresh, and gave it to Mrs. Rose; but I could not refrain from asking her, soon after, if she could recommend me anything to keep my hair from turning grey, adding that I thought prevention was better than cure. I think she made out the impression of my seal on the paper after that; for I learned that she had been crying, and that she talked about there being no sympathy left in the world for her since Mr. Rose’s death; and that she counted the days until she could rejoin him in the better world. I think she counted the days to Miss Tomkinson’s party, too; she talked so much about it.

‘The covers were taken off Miss Tomkinson’s chairs, and curtains, and sofas; and a great jar full of artificial flowers was placed in the centre of the table, which, as Miss Caroline told me, was all her doing, as she doted on the beautiful and artistic in life. Miss Tomkinson stood, erect as a grenadier, close to the door, receiving her friends, and heartily shaking them by the hands as they entered; she said she was truly glad to see them. And so she really was.

‘We had just finished tea, and Miss Caroline had brought out a little pack of conversation cards — sheaves of slips of cardboard, with intellectual or sentimental questions on one set, and equally intellectual and sentimental answers on the other; and, as the answers were fit to any and all the questions, you may think they were a characterless and “wersh” set of things. I had just been asked by Miss Caroline:

‘”Can you tell what those dearest to you think of you at this present time?“ and had answered:

‘”How can you expect me to reveal such a secret to the present company!“ when the servant announced that a gentleman, a friend of mine, wished to speak to me downstairs.

‘“Oh, show him up, Martha; show him up!” said Miss Tomkinson, in her hospitality.

‘“Any friend of our friend is welcome,” said Miss Caroline, in an insinuating tone.

‘I jumped up, however, thinking it might he some one on business; but I was so penned in by the spider-legged tables, stuck out on every side, that I could not make the haste I wished; and, before I could prevent it, Martha had shown up Jack Marshland, who was on his road home for a day or two at Christmas.

‘He came up in a hearty way, bowing to Miss Tomkinson, and explaining that he had found himself in my neighbourhood, and had come over to pass a night with me, and that my servant had directed him where I was.

‘His voice, loud at all times, sounded like Stentor’s in that little room, where we all spoke in a kind of purring way. He had no swell in his tones; they were forte from the beginning. At first it seemed like the days of my youth come back again, to hear full manly speaking; I felt proud of my friend, as he thanked Miss Tomkinson for her kindness in asking him to stay the evening. By-and-by he came up to me, and I dare say he thought he had lowered his voice, for he looked as if speaking confidentially, while in fact the whole room might have heard him.

‘“Frank, my boy, when shall we have dinner at this good old lady’s? I’m deuced hungry.”

‘“Dinner! Why, we had had tea an hour ago.” While he yet spoke, Martha came in with a little tray on which was a single cup of coffee and three slices of wafer bread-and-butter. His dismay, and his evident submission to the decrees of Fate, tickled me so much, that I thought he should have a further taste of the life I led from month’s end to month’s end, and I gave up my plan of taking him home at once, and enjoyed the anticipation of the hearty laugh we should have together at the end of the evening. I was famously punished for my determination.

‘“Shall we continue our game?” asked Miss Caroline, who had never relinquished her sheaf of questions.

‘We went on questioning and answering, with little gain of information to either party.

‘“No such thing as heavy betting in this game, eh, Frank?” a............