have taken the
left.'

'I observe again,' continued Mr Finsbury, scorning to reply, 'that you
mend the dilapidated parts of your harness with string. I have always
protested against this carelessness and slovenliness of the English
poor. In an essay that I once read before an appreciative audience--'

'It ain't string,' said the carrier sullenly, 'it's pack-thread.'

'I have always protested,' resumed the old man, 'that in their private
and domestic life, as well as in their labouring career, the lower
classes of this country are improvident, thriftless, and extravagant. A
stitch in time--'

'Who the devil ARE the lower classes?' cried the carrier. 'You are the
lower classes yourself! If I thought you were a blooming aristocrat, I
shouldn't have given you a lift.'

The words were uttered with undisguised ill-feeling; it was plain the
pair were not congenial, and further conversation, even to one of Mr
Finsbury's pathetic loquacity, was out of the question. With an angry
gesture, he pulled down the brim of the forage-cap over his eyes,
and, producing a notebook and a blue pencil from one of his innermost
pockets, soon became absorbed in calculations.

On his part the carrier fell to whistling with fresh zest; and if (now
and again) he glanced at the companion of his drive, it was with mingled
feelings of triumph and alarm--triumph because he had succeeded in
arresting that prodigy of speech, and alarm lest (by any accident) it
should begin again. Even the shower, which presently overtook and passed
them, was endured by both in silence; and it was still in silence that
they drove at length into Southampton.

Dusk had fallen; the shop windows glimmered forth into the streets of
the old seaport; in private houses lights were kindled for the evening
meal; and Mr Finsbury began to think complacently of his night's
lodging. He put his papers by, cleared his throat, and looked doubtfully
at Mr Chandler.

'Will you be civil enough,' said he, 'to recommend me to an inn?' Mr
Chandler pondered for a moment.

'Well,' he said at last, 'I wonder how about the "Tregonwell Arms".'

'The "Tregonwell Arms" will do very well,' returned the old man, 'if
it's clean and cheap, and the people civil.'

'I wasn't thinking so much of you,' returned Mr Chandler thoughtfully.
'I was thinking of my friend Watts as keeps the 'ouse; he's a friend of
mine, you see, and he helped me through my trouble last year. And I was
thinking, would