sing
various critiques on the book (all of course highly eulogistic), and
thus pleasantly occupied the way until he gained the cheerful
Kensington High Street, the first half of which seems to belong to
some bright little market town many miles further from Charing Cross.
In the road by the kerbstone he passed a street singer, a poor old
creature in a sun-bonnet, with sharp features that had been handsome
once, and brilliant dark eyes, who was standing there unregarded,
singing some long-forgotten song with the remnants of a voice. Mark's
happiness impelled him to put some silver into her hand, and he felt a
half-superstitious satisfaction as he heard the blessing she called
down on him--as if she might have influence.

No one was at home at Malakoff Terrace but Trixie, whom he found
busily engaged in copying an immense plaster nose. 'Jack says I must
practise harder at features before I try the antique,' she explained,
'and so he gave me this nose; it's his first present, and considered a
very fine cast, Jack says.'

'Never saw a finer nose anywhere,' said Mark--'looks as if it had been
forced, eh, Trixie?'

'Mark, don't!' cried Trixie, shocked at this irreverence; 'it's
_David's_--Michael Angelo's David!' He gave her Mabel's note. 'I
can't write back because my hands are all charcoaly,' she explained;
'but you can say, "My love, and I will if I possibly can;" and, oh
yes, tell her I had a letter from _him_ this morning.'

'Meaning Jack?' said Mark. 'All right, and--oh, I say, Trixie, why
won't the governor and mater come to my wedding?'

'It's all ma,' said Trixie; 'she says she should only feel herself out
of place at a fashionable wedding, and she's better away.'

'It's to be a very quiet affair, though, thank Heaven!' observed Mark.

'Yes, but don't you see what she really wants is to be able to feel
injured by being out of it all--if she can, she'll persuade herself in
time that she never was invited at all; you know what dear ma is!'

'Well,' said Mark, with considerable resignation, 'she must do as she
pleases, of course. Have you got anything else to tell me, Trixie,
because I shall have to be going soon?'

'You mustn't go till I've given you something that came for you--oh, a
long time ago, when ma was ill. You see, it was like this: ma had her
breakfast in bed, and there was a tray put down on the slab where it
was, and it was sticky underneath or something, and so it stuck to the
bottom, and the t