with the old man now, sweet witch."

"Nature doesn't improve you, Grand-dad. You require the refining touches
of art. Your beard is unkempt, your hair too long. You shall visit the
barber after we have concluded our meal. It is distressing to mankind in
general to behold a spectacle like you. You owe a duty to the world at
large. You must visit the barber."

"Chut--chut! What a witch it is! Why didn't it stay at home, and not
worry the old man?"

"Serve up the breakfast, Grand-dad, and believe in the salutary nature
of your granddaughter's visitations."

The two sat down to their meal, and both ate for a time in unbroken
silence. After his third glass of sour claret, the old man spoke:

"How are you, Nina? You don't look up to much?"

"Would you be up to much if a fever consumed you day and night? Feel my
hand, Grand-dad."

The old man gripped the slender fingers, then flung them away.

"Good God! they burn!" he said. "Don't touch me, witch. You may have
contracted something catching."

"No, nothing that the old man can catch. Now, let us be pleasant, and
enjoy the day together."

"We can't. I am going to move to-day."

"You must stay here to-day; you can move tomorrow."

"Witch, how you order me. I won't be ordered. I shall move to-day."

"You have no idea of moving, either to-day or to-morrow. Don't talk
nonsense. You have had your breakfast. I will wash the things up. Go and
visit the barber."

The old man muttered and mumbled. Finally he tied a large crimson scarf
in a loose knot round his throat, shoved a soft felt hat on his head,
and donning a greasy and very old brown velvet cloak, he prepared to go
out.

"It's a rare nuisance," he said; "I meant to try some Chinese cooking
for dinner; something with a subtle aroma, delicate, and hard to obtain.
You boil the leeks for so many hours, and catch the essence in a
distiller. Bah! you care nothing for eating, witch."

"I like some of your dishes very well, Granddad, but I prefer
cleanliness to luxury. Now, go out and get shaved."

"It will cost me sixpence."

"Sixpence well spent. Don't talk any more; go!"

He blew her a kiss, half of derision, half of pride, and shambled
downstairs. A crowd of little boys followed him up the street; some
pulled his cloak, some mocked him openly. He neither felt the pulls nor
heard the words. He was absorbed in the thought of that delicious
Chinese dinner which he could not now partake of to-day.

As soon as