inning to rub his poor nose, "Look out!"
And this is what everybody did with one accord, when he was down upon
his luck--which is far more momentous than his nose to any man--in the
case of Rector Twemlow.

That gentleman now had good reason for being in less than his usual
cheer and comfort. Everything around him was uneasy, and everybody
seemed to look at him, instead of looking up to him, as the manner used
to be. This was enough to make him feel unlike himself; for although he
was resolute in his way, and could manage to have it with most people,
he was not of that iron style which takes the world as wax to write
upon. Mr. Twemlow liked to heave his text at the people of his parish on
Sunday, and to have his joke with them on Monday; as the fire that has
burned a man makes the kettle sing to comfort him. And all who met him
throughout the week were pleased with him doubly, when they remembered
his faithfulness in the pulpit.

But now he did his duty softly, as if some of it had been done to him;
and if anybody thanked him for a fine discourse, he never endeavoured
to let him have it all again. So far was he gone from his natural state
that he would rather hear nothing about himself than be praised enough
to demand reply; and this shows a world-wide depression to have arrived
in the latitude of a British waistcoat. However, he went through his
work, as a Briton always does, until he hangs himself; and he tried
to try some of the higher consolation, which he knew so well how to
administer to others.

Those who do not understand the difference of this might have been
inclined to blame him; but all who have seen a clever dentist with the
toothache are aware that his knowledge adds acuteness to the pain. Mr.
Twemlow had borne great troubles well, and been cheerful even under
long suspense; but now a disappointment close at home, and the grief
of beholding his last hopes fade, were embittered by mystery and dark
suspicions. In despair at last of recovering his son, he had fastened
upon his only daughter the interest of his declining life; and now he
was vexed with misgivings about her, which varied as frequently as she
did. It was very unpleasant to lose the chance of having a grandchild
capable of rocking in a silver cradle; but that was a trifle compared
with the prospect of having no grandchild at all, and perhaps not even
a child to close his eyes. And even his wife, of long habit and fair
harmony, from whom he had