that town, she decided that Miss Furbey's
father was in Billericay workhouse; and
that the overseers, irritated by her implied
neglect, had at last peremptorily insisted on
her removing him to her own roof. Having
settled this (for Tunnicliff always snapped at
a sudden idea of the kind), and being, therefore,
convinced that no trap was intended on
Miss Furbey's part, arrangements were made
for entertaining the baker out of the secret
funds. The baker came early, and took us to
Bow Fair (which was going on just then),
but they let me lag behind, as they always
did; and went into shows, leaving me
outside; till I felt like a little vagabond, and
came home crying, and walked about the
door, till they returned in alarm and let me
in. When the baker, after supping on beef-
steaks and onions, went out and returned
with rum in a stone bottle, and began to mix
it, and to smoke tobacco in Miss Furbey's back
parlour, I was in great terror, and could
enjoy nothing. I have but an indistinct
remembrance that a grand scheme against Miss
Furbey was agreed upon that night; and
that I was much petted, and told that those
who had stuck by them hitherto would not
be forgotten. The baker talked of a snug
little place that he knew, which was doing a
great many sacks a-week, and was only going
to be given up to him on account of ill-
health; and added, with a wink, that as soon
as an apprentice was actually married, she
might fearlessly snap her fingers in the face
of master or mistress.

Miss Furbey came home the next night in
some kind of a coach. Tunnicliff sat up for
her; but I went to bed, and lay awake in
great fear of her smelling the stale tobacco
smoke. I heard Miss Furbey arrive, and
somebody bringing her father in; and it
sounded like a number of persons moving a
large sofa or pianoforte up a narrow staircase;
but I never saw her father, all the time he
was there. No more did Tunnicliff; though
she opened the door to them on the night of
his arrival. He was always in Miss Furbey's
bed-room, by which she was compelled to
sleep in an attic; and Tunnicliff, from a yard
at the back of the house, once saw a grey-
headed figure through the little diamond-
paned window, sitting in Miss Furbey's old
stuffed chair, as motionless as a statue. We
knew he was afflicted in some way; but Miss
Furbey seldom spoke about him. In her
prim and quiet way she went about preparing
his food, which he used to rap for, when he
wanted it, with a stick, upon the floor overhead.
She made him a black velvet cap,
with a gilt-wire tassel, and spent half her
time in attending upon him—never going out,
as she used to do. I think this impoverished
her, and was the cause of her stinting herself
more than ever. Tunnicliff began to grumble,
because we always had boiled mutton now,
from which the greater part of the broth
went upstairs; leaving us, Tunnicliff said,
nothing but boiled rags. Miss Furbey, with
more deceit than I ever knew her to be
guilty of before, used to make a show of
discussing every day what we should have for
dinner, and always ended by having mutton.
Since her father had been there, she used to
ask me to fetch such things; but this particular
errand I always detested. My instructions
were to ask for two pounds of neck of
mutton, at sixpence, and to be sure to get it
at Higginbotham's. Higginbotham was a
rich butcher, whose shop stood out towards
the roadway, a little lower down. He was
very sharp and quick with such small
customers; and when he got to know me, and
my invariable order, he used to make me
ashamed by spying me coming from the other
side of the road, and beginning to cut and
weigh the exact quantity beforehand. I hated
him, and if he is living there still (which is
not very likely) I hope he will see this.
Tunnicliff's matrimonial scheme must have
been ripening about this time; for her ideas
ran much upon weddings. One day she said
to Miss Furbey, after coughing and treading
on my toe under the table, "I wonder you
never got married, Miss Furbey."

Miss Furbey answered calmly, as if the
question had been merely the whispering of
her own thoughts: "Well, I was very near
being married once." Tunnicliff trod on my
toe again, and asked for particulars. Miss
Furbey took a pin out of her mouth, pinned
her work to her knee,—for she was stitching
upward,—and answered: "My papa wished
me to break it off." Tunnicliff could not keep
down a giggle at this, and when Miss Furbey
added that she was firmly resolved never to
marry during her papa's lifetime, nothing
but Miss Furbey's dreamy absorption in her
stitching could have prevented her remarking
Tunnicliff's amusement. She trod so much
upon my toes, and took (as she always did) so
little precaution to prevent its being seen,
that I was obliged to move my chair. When the
fit had somewhat subsided, she said, "Oh, do
tell me who he was like, Miss Furbey." Miss
Furbey rose from her chair, and taking a
little ring of keys from her side pocket,
opened one of an old-fashioned chest of
drawers, dipped her hand in, and brought up
immediately a little casket. And there, in an
oval gilt ring, upon a black ground, was the
portrait of a gentleman in a scarlet uniform.
I recollect it now, for I saw it often afterwards.
He had light blue eyes and light hair.
His appearance was not very soldierlike; but
I think it surprised Tunnicliff, and made her
wonder whether Miss Furbey had been good-
looking in her youth. I asked Miss Furbey
if he had ever been to battle? She said,
"No; he was a volunteer, and used only
to wear the uniform now and then." But
Tunnicliff regarded the bringing out of the
portrait as a defeat, and let the subject drop;
upon which Miss Furbey put the little casket
away again, and locked the drawer. Not