r. Jennings was about, he (deponent) turned in again, went to
sleep, and thought no more of it till he heard of Mrs. Quarles's death
in the morning. If he may be so bold as to speak his mind, he thinks the
house-keeper, being fat, died o' the 'plexy in a nateral way, and that
the dog barking so, just as she was a-going off, is proof positive of
it. He'd often heard of dogs doing so; they saw the sperit gliding away,
and barked at it; his (deponent's) own grandmother--

At this juncture--for the court was getting fidgetty--the coroner cut
short the opinions of Jonathan Floyd: and when Mr. Crown, summing up,
presented in one focus all this evidence to the misty minds of the
assembled jurymen, it puzzled them entirely; they could not see their
way, fairly addled, did not know at all what to make of it. On the
threshold, there was no proof it was a murder--the Union doctor was loud
and staunch on this; and next, there seemed to be no motive for the
deed, and no one to suspect of it: so they left the matter open, found
her simply "Dead," and troubled their heads no more about the business.

Good Mr. Evans, the vicar, preached her funeral sermon, only as last
Sunday, amplifying the idea that she "was cut off in the midst of her
days:" and thereby encouraging many of the simpler folks, who knew that
Mrs. Quarles had long passed seventy, in the luminous notion that
house-keepers in great establishments are privileged, among other
undoubted perquisites, to live to a hundred and forty, unless cut off by
apoplexy or murder.

Mr. Simon Jennings, as nephew and next of kin, followed the body to its
last home in the capacity of chief mourner; to do him justice, he was a
real mourner, bewailed her loudly, and had never been the same man
since. Moreover, although aforetime not much given to indiscriminate
charity, he had now gained no small credit by distributing his aunt's
wardrobe among the poorer families at Hurstley. It was really very kind
of him, and the more so, as being altogether unexpected: he got great
praise for this, did Mr. Jennings; specially, too, because he had gained
nothing whatever from his aunt's death, though her heir and probable
legatee, and clearly was a disappointed man.

CHAPTER VI.

THE BAILIFF; AND A BITTER TRIAL.

JENNINGS--Mr. Simon Jennings--for he prided himself much both
on the Mr. and the Simon, was an upright man, a very upright man indeed,
literally so as well as metaphorically. He was