glasses, rigorously as body-lashing friar), she imparted to
him the singular effect of the advance of wages upon little Jane--"Oh,
ma'am! and me never asked you for it!" She informed her brother how
little Jane had confided to her that they were called "close," and how
little Jane had vowed she would--the willing little thing!--go about
letting everybody know their kindness.

"Yes! Ah!" Tinman inhaled the praise. "No, no; I don't want to be
puffed," he said. "Remember cook. I have," he continued, meditatively,
"rarely found my plan fail. But mind, I give the Crickledons notice
to quit to-morrow. They are a pest. Besides, I shall probably think of
erecting villas."

"How dreadful the wind is!" Mrs. Cavely exclaimed. "I would give that
girl Annette one chance more. Try her by letter."

Tinman despatched a business letter to Annette, which brought back a
vague, unbusiness-like reply. Two days afterward Mrs. Cavely reported to
her brother the presence of Mr. Fellingham and Miss Mary Fellingham
in Crikswich. At her dictation he wrote a second letter. This time the
reply came from Van Diemen:

"My DEAR MARTIN,--Please do not go on bothering my girl. She does
not like the idea of leaving me, and my experience tells me I could
not live in the house with you. So there it is. Take it friendly.
I have always wanted to be, and am,

"Your friend,

"PHIL."

Tinman proceeded straight to Elba; that is, as nearly straight as the
wind would allow his legs to walk. Van Diemen was announced to be
out; Miss Annette begged to be excused, under the pretext that she was
unwell; and Tinman heard of a dinner-party at Elba that night.

He met Mr. Fellingham on the carriage drive. The young Londoner presumed
to touch upon Tinman's private affairs by pleading on behalf of the
Crikledons, who were, he said, much dejected by the notice they had
received to quit house and shop.

"Another time," bawled Tinman. "I can't hear you in this wind."

"Come in," said Fellingham.

"The master of the house is absent," was the smart retort roared at him;
and Tinman staggered away, enjoying it as he did his wine.

His house rocked. He was backed by his sister in the assurance that he
had been duped.

The process he supposed to be thinking, which was the castigation of
his brains with every sting wherewith a native touchiness could ply
immediate recollection, led him to conclude that he mu