after his plentiful repast, and constitutionally of a shirking temperament, was well enough pleased to stump away, without doing what he had come to do, and was paid for doing.

Mr Boffin then put on his hat, and Mrs Boffin her shawl; and the pair, further provided with a bunch of keys and a lighted lantern, went all over the dismal house — dismal everywhere, but in their own two rooms — from cellar to cock-loft. Not resting satisfied with giving that much chace to Mrs Boffin’s fancies, they pursued them into the yard and outbuildings, and under the Mounds. And setting the lantern, when all was done, at the foot of one of the Mounds, they comfortably trotted to and fro for an evening walk, to the end that the murky cobwebs in Mrs Boffin’s brain might be blown away.

“There, my dear!” said Mr Boffin when they came in to supper. “That was the treatment, you see. Completely worked round, haven’t you?”

“Yes, deary,” said Mrs Boffin, laying aside her shawl. “I’m not nervous any more. I’m not a bit troubled now. I’d go anywhere about the house the same as ever. But — ”

“Eh!” said Mr Boffin.

“But I’ve only to shut my eyes.”

“And what then?”

“Why then,” said Mrs Boffin, speaking with her eyes closed, and her left hand thoughtfully touching her brow, “then, there they are! The old man’s face, and it gets younger. The two children’s faces, and they get older. A face that I don’t know. And then all the faces!”

Opening her eyes again, and seeing her husband’s face across the table, she leaned forward to give it a pat on the cheek, and sat down to supper, declaring it to be the best face in the world.