latest born of many hundreds of
socks--on the needles, and the unfailing cat at her elbow. The aspect
of the pair gives the impression that if a French Revolution or a Chili
earthquake were to visit England they would click-and-gaze on with
imperturbable serenity through it all.

But the little old lady is not alone now. Old Mr Rigonda sits at the
table opposite to her, with his forehead in his hands, as though he
sought to squeeze ideas into his head from a book which lies open before
him on the table. Vain hope, for the book is upside down. Profound
silence reigns, with the exception of the clicking needles and the
purring cat.

"My dear," at length exclaimed the bald old gentleman, looking up with a
weary sigh.

"Yes, John?" (Such is his romantic Christian name!)

"I can't stand it, Maggie." (Such is _her_ ditto!)

"It is, indeed, hard to bear, John. If we only knew for certain that
they are--are gone, it seems as if we could bow to His will; but this
terrible and wearing uncertainty is awful. Did you make inquiry at
Lloyd's to-day?"

"Lloyd's? You seem to think Lloyd's can tell everything about all that
happens on the sea. No, it's of no use inquiring anywhere, or doing
anything. We can only sit still and groan."

In pursuance of this remaining consolation, the poor old gentleman
groaned heavily and squeezed his forehead tighter, and gazed at the
reversed book more sternly, while the old lady heaved several deep
sighs. Even the cat introduced a feeble mew, as of sympathy, into the
midst of its purr--the hypocrite!

"It was the earthquake that did it," cried Mr Rigonda, starting up, and
pacing the room wildly, "I'm convinced of that."

"How can that be, John, dear, when you were in Java at the time, and our
darlings were far away upon the sea?"

"How can _I_ tell how it could be, Maggie? Do you take me for a
geological philosopher, who can give reasons for every earthly thing he
asserts? All I know is that these abominable earthquakes go half
through the world sometimes. Pity they don't go through the other half,
split the world in two, and get rid of the subterranean fires
altogether."

"John, my dear!"

"Well, Maggie, don't be hard on me for gettin' irascible now and then.
If you only knew what I suffer when--but forgive me. You _do_ know what
I suffer--there!"

He stooped and kissed the old lady's forehead. The cat, uncertain,
apparently, whether an assault was meant, arched its