I heard her come out, and once more begin
ascending the stairs which led to my mistress's
room. Then she paused again a little while, and
then she tapped at the door and went in. [The
witness seemed agitated here, and stopped for
breath.]

Mr. Pry. After that, I suppose you heard
nothing more?

Witness. I knew nothing more, sir, till the
time came when my mistress's bell rang, and I
went up-stairs to answer it.

Mr. Pry. And did you find the prisoner in the
room with the deceased?

Witness. Yes, sir, but she left almost
immediately.

Mr. Pry. And you remained behind?

Witness. Yes, sir. I remained with my mistress,
except for a very short interval, till she
went to bed.

Mr. Pry. Do you remember any remark she
may have made on that evening—anything in
connexion with the refreshments of which she
had been partaking?

Witness. Yes, sir. She made an allusion to
the porter, which, in consequence of previous
complaints, I had got at a new public-house.
She said that it had a very nasty taste.

Mr. Pry. Were those her exact words?

Witness. They were, sir. Her very words.
A " very nasty taste," she says.

Mr. Pry. Had you any suspicions, now, at this
time?

Witness. No, sir. None in the least.

Mr Pry. So little so, that you cleared the
dishes and washed out the jug which had
contained the food and drink provided for the
deceased lady's supper?

Witness. Yes, sir. I washed them up, as I
was in the habit of doing, as soon as I brought
them down stairs, and while my mistress was
preparing for bed.

Mr. Pry. How long were you absent from
her?

Witness. From twenty minutes to half an
hour.

Mr. Pry. Did you notice anything remarkable
about your mistress?

Witness. She seemed very sleepy and drowsy
like.

A juryman—the same who took the copious
notes—here interposed to inquire whether it was
ever the case that porter was adulterated with
laudanum; but he was met with the objection
that such adulteration would scarcely pay,
inasmuch as any preparation of opium that could be
used for the purpose would be very much more
expensive than the best legitimate materials which
could be made use of in the manufacture of beer.

The reader will not fail to perceive how close
and complete this evidence was. It was terrible
to see what a suspicious aspect that act of taking
up the deceased lady's supper wore when it came
thus to be spoken of as a matter of evidence
given in a court of justice.  Nor was this testimony
rendered less terrible by the manner of its
delivery. Of the animus entertained by the
witness towards the accused there could be no
doubt, every time that the word " prisoner" was
used, a noticeable expression of triumph declaring
itself on the witness's countenance.

It was now time for her cross-examination to
begin. But for that we shall require a new
chapter.

HOPEWARD BOUND.

THE seventh of November, in this current
year, was one of those aggravating days upon
vhich Mr.Timid does not go abroad without
his umbrella, but, having it with him, is
perpetually doubtful whether to carry it furled or
unfurled. I saw him on that day steering his way
over the trackless expanse of the grass in Hyde
Park, or over a trackless part of it; now in
full sail before the wind, with his head snug in
his umbrella, yet not snug enough, for it rained
and it did not rain. Irritating specks of damp
were dancing about like deliquescent gnats in
the raw wintry air. It was not worth while, or
it was of no use, to put up an umbrella. Down
came, therefore, Mr. Timid's press of sail, and
he went uncomfortably forward over the damp
grass till there were drops of damp big enough
to form plum-pudding patterns upon seats and
rails, stingy plum-pudding patterns, with the
currants few and far between. Then Mr. Timid,
not for his own sake but his hat's, opened sail
again, till, as he crossed the road near the bridge
over the Serpentine, towards which he had been
steering, the apparition of a solitary rider taking
a morning constitutional through that dreary
November air, terrified the little gentleman.
He was terrified lest he should, by crossing
before it with an umbrella opened, fatally terrify
the horse. So he closed the umbrella with a
sudden snap under the horse's nose, and hurried
on without daring to look at the consequences.
I saw him look hard in the opposite direction
for the ducks; but the ducks could make nothing
of such a day, and were in solemn congrega-
tions, perhaps praying for rain or fair weather,
one of the two, for this was neither. It didn't
particularly rain; there wasn't particularly a
fog; it wasn't particularly cold, and it wasn't
particularly windy; but there was the ghost of
a rainfall hovering in and out of the ghost of a
fog, and a ghostly chill, and a ghost of an east
wind that would have given out a ghostly wail
in ghostly places.

My friend Timid is very thin. I think I have
seen his arms in a high wind blown out straight
before him like a couple of pennants. But they
might have been stirred by intellectual emotion.
For he is very sensitive, as well as very thin.
I startled my friend dreadfully by intercepting
him upon the bridge with a loud "whither
away?" But the shock jolted out of him the
word " Brompton." " Boilers?" I asked.
"No," he said, "I am going to the Consumption
Hospital." Of course it was my part, as a
friend, to tell him that he looked like a case for
it; but he told me he was upon no jesting