wickedness."

"Or of his," said Miss Todd.

"Or of his," and Mr Maguire looked very hard at Mr Fuzzybell. Mr
Fuzzybell was a quiet, tame old gentleman, who followed his wife's
heels about wherever she went; but even he, when attacked in this
way, became very fierce, and looked back at Mr Maguire quite as
severely as Mr Maguire looked at him.

"Or of his," continued Mr Maguire; "and therefore far be it from me
to think hardly of the amusements of other people. But when this
gentleman tells me that his excellent parent warned him against the
fascination of cards, I cannot but ask him to remember those precepts
to his dying bed."

"I won't say what I may do later in life," said Mr Rubb.

"When he becomes like you and me, Mrs Fuzzybell," said Miss Todd.

"When one does get older," said Mr Rubb.

"And has succeeded in throwing off all decorum," said Miss Todd.

"How can you say such things?" asked Miss Baker, who was shocked by
the tenor of the conversation.

"It isn't I, my dear; it's Mr Rubb and Mr Maguire, between them. One
says he has thrown off all decorum and the other declares himself to
be a mass of iniquity. What are two poor old ladies like you and I to
do in such company?"

Miss Mackenzie, when she heard Mr Maguire declare himself to be a
running sore, was even more angry with him than with Mr Rubb. He, at
any rate, should have known better. After all, was not Mr Ball better
than either of them, though his head was bald and his face worn with
that solemn, sad look of care which always pervaded him?

In the course of the evening she found herself seated apart from the
general company, with Mr Maguire beside her. The eye that did not
squint was towards her, and he made an effort to be agreeable to her
that was not altogether ineffectual.

"Does not society sometimes make you very sad?" he said.

Society had made her sad to-night, and she answered him in the
affirmative.

"It seems that people are so little desirous to make other people
happy," she replied.

"It was just that idea that was passing through my own mind. Men and
women are anxious to give you the best they have, but it is in order
that you may admire their wealth or their taste; and they strive to
be witty, amusing, and sarcastic! but that, again, is for the eclat
they are to gain. How few really struggle to make those around them
comfortable!"

"It comes, I suppose, from people having such different tastes," said
Miss Mackenzie, w