ps.'

While pretending, with such talk as this, to be perfectly at his ease,
and to be the most indifferent and careless of men, Mark Tapley had
an eye on all around him. The wan and meagre aspect of the family, the
changed looks of the poor mother, the fevered child she held in her lap,
the air of great despondency and little hope on everything, were plain
to him, and made a deep impression on his mind. He saw it all as
clearly and as quickly, as with his bodily eyes he saw the rough shelves
supported by pegs driven between the logs, of which the house was made;
the flour-cask in the corner, serving also for a table; the blankets,
spades, and other articles against the walls; the damp that blotched the
ground; or the crop of vegetable rottenness in every crevice of the hut.

'How is it that you have come here?' asked the man, when their first
expressions of surprise were over.

'Why, we come by the steamer last night,' replied Mark. 'Our intention
is to make our fortuns with punctuality and dispatch; and to retire upon
our property as soon as ever it's realised. But how are you all? You're
looking noble!'

'We are but sickly now,' said the poor woman, bending over her child.
'But we shall do better when we are seasoned to the place.'

'There are some here,' thought Mark 'whose seasoning will last for
ever.'

But he said cheerfully, 'Do better! To be sure you will. We shall all
do better. What we've got to do is, to keep up our spirits, and be
neighbourly. We shall come all right in the end, never fear. That
reminds me, by the bye, that my partner's all wrong just at present;
and that I looked in to beg for him. I wish you'd come and give me your
opinion of him, master.'

That must have been a very unreasonable request on the part of Mark
Tapley, with which, in their gratitude for his kind offices on board the
ship, they would not have complied instantly. The man rose to accompany
him without a moment's delay. Before they went, Mark took the sick child
in his arms, and tried to comfort the mother; but the hand of death was
on it then, he saw.

They found Martin in the house, lying wrapped up in his blanket on
the ground. He was, to all appearance, very ill indeed, and shook and
shivered horribly; not as people do from cold, but in a frightful
kind of spasm or convulsion, that racked his whole body. Mark's friend
pronounced his disease an aggravated kind of fever, accompanied with
ague; which was very common in