ing, the more the servants think you're a dun, and
therefore the more they don't come to let you in--but if you keep
it up regularly they'll think you're a rich relation and will
rush to the rescue."

So he kept on, and the voice of the bell sharply clattered
through the dismal old house, making as much noise as if it
suddenly wakened a thousand echoes that had been locked up there
for many years without the power to speak till now. If a timid
ring denotes a dun, and a boisterous one a rich relation, then
must the inhabitants of that cleanly suburb have been convinced
that the present performer on the bell not only had no claims as
a creditor on the people of the house, but was a rich California
uncle, come to give each adult member of that happy family a gold
mine or so, and to distribute a cart-load of diamonds among the
children.

The door at last was opened by an uncertain old man with very
weak eyes, who appeared to have, in a milder form, the same
malady which afflicted the house; perhaps he was a twin, and
suffered from brotherly sympathy--at any rate the dilapidating
disease had touched him sorely; its ravages were particularly
noticeable in the toes of his boots and the elbows of his coat.
Violent remedies had evidently been applied in the latter case,
but the patches were of different colors, and suggestive of the
rag-bag; the boots were past hope of convalescence; his
shirt-collar was sunk under a greasy billow of a neckcloth, and
only one slender string was visible to show where it had gone
down; the nether garment was a ragged wreck, that set a hundred
tattered sails to every breeze, but was anchored fast at the
shoulder with a single disreputable suspender.

Guided by this equivocal individual the two visitors entered a
small shabbily furnished room, and bestowed themselves in a
couple of treacherous chairs, in pursuance of an imbecile
invitation from the battered old gentleman.

The anticipations of the enthusiastic lover again began to fall,
and in five minutes his heart, which so lately was "burning with
high hope," was so cold as to be uncomfortable.

On a seven-by-nine cooking-stove, which three pints of coal would
have driven blazing crazy, stood a diminutive iron kettle, in
which something was noisily stewing; the something may have been
a decoction of magic herbs, or it may have been Madame Widger's
dinner. A tumble-down trunk in a corner of the room did
precarious duty for a chair; a fade