gested to him that
Magdalen had failed to carry out the directions in his letter; and that
Mrs. Wragge had arrived at Aldborough without being properly aware of
the total transformation to be accomplished in her identity and her
name. The necessity of setting this doubt at rest was too serious to
be trifled with; and Captain Wragge instituted the necessary inquiries
without a moment's delay.

"Stand straight, and listen to me," he began. "I have a question to ask
you. Do you know whose Skin you are in at this moment? Do you know
that you are dead and buried in London; and that you have risen like a
phoenix from the ashes of Mrs. Wragge? No! you evidently don't know it.
This is perfectly disgraceful. What is your name?"

"Matilda," answered Mrs. Wragge, in a state of the densest bewilderment.

"Nothing of the sort!" cried the captain, fiercely. "How dare you tell
me your name's Matilda? Your name is Julia. Who am I?--Hold that basket
of sandwiches straight, or I'll pitch it into the sea!--Who am I?"

"I don't know," said Mrs. Wragge, meekly taking refuge in the negative
side of the question this time.

"Sit down!" said her husband, pointing to the low garden wall of North
Shingles Villa. "More to the right! More still! That will do. You don't
know?" repeated the captain, sternly confronting his wife as soon as
he had contrived, by seating her, to place her face on a level with his
own. "Don't let me hear you say that a second time. Don't let me have
a woman who doesn't know who I am to operate on my beard to-morrow
morning. Look at me! More to the left--more still--that will do. Who am
I? I'm Mr. Bygrave--Christian name, Thomas. Who are you? You're Mrs.
Bygrave--Christian name, Julia. Who is that young lady who traveled with
you from London? That young lady is Miss Bygrave--Christian name, Susan.
I'm her clever uncle Tom; and you're her addle-headed aunt Julia. Say it
all over to me instantly, like the Catechism! What is your name?"

"Spare my poor head!" pleaded Mrs. Wragge. "Oh, please spare my poor
head till I've got the stage-coach out of it!"

"Don't distress her," said Magdalen, joining them at that moment. "She
will learn it in time. Come into the house."

Captain Wragge shook his wary head once more. "We are beginning badly,"
he said, with less politeness than usual. "My wife's stupidity stands
in our way already."

They went into the house. Magdalen was perfectly satisfied with all the
captain's arrang