how it all happened. Just fancy,
Clara," continued the widow, drawing her handkerchief from her reticule
and mopping one of her eyes with it. "Just fancy the poor fellow being
cut in two with a bullet far away in India and him just speaking about
Jack and me a few minutes before. I am sure we must thank Major
Bottlenose--"

"Clutterbuck, madam," cried the major with some indignation.

"I really beg pardon. We must thank him, Clara, for having told us
about it and for having called."

"Do not thank me, me dear Mrs. Scully," said the major, clearing his
throat and waving his stubby hand deprecatingly. "I have already had me
reward in having the pleasure and honour of making your acquaintance and
of coming nearer to those charums which I had alriddy admired from a
distance."

"Oh, auntie, listen to that!" cried Clara, and both ladies giggled.

"Not forgetting yours, Miss-Miss--"

"Miss Timms," said Mrs. Scully. "My brother's daughter."

"Not forgetting your charums, Miss Timms," continued the major, with a
bow and a flourish. "To a lonely man like meself, the very sight of a
lady is like dew to a plant. I feel stringthened, madam, vitalized,
invigorated." The major puffed out his chest and looked apoplectically
tender over his high white collar.

"The chief object of me visit," the old soldier said after a pause,
"was to learn whether I could be of any assistance to you in any way.
Afther your sad bereavement, of which I have heard, it may be that even
a comparative stranger may be of service in business matters."

"I'm sure it's very kind of you, major," the widow answered.
"Since poor Jack died everything has been in disorder. If it wouldn't
trouble you, I should very much like your advice on some future
occasion. I'll ask your opinion when I have cleared up things a little
myself. As to these lawyers, they think of their own interests, not of
yours."

"Quite so," said the major sympathetically.

"There's the fifteen hundred of poor Jack's insurance. That's not laid
out yet."

"Fifteen hundred!" said the major. "That's seventy-five pounds a year
at five per cint."

"I can get better interest than that," said the widow gaily. "I've got
two thousand laid out at seven per cent.--haven't I, Clara?"

"Safe, too," said the girl.

"The deuce you have!" thought the major.

"So, when we are making arrangements, I'll ask your assistance and
advice, Major Tanglebobs. I know that we poor women ar