and tough; but a little of the genuine old
English Bagstock stamina, Sir, would do all the good in the world to the
human breed.'

After imparting this precious piece of information, the Major, who
was certainly true-blue, whatever other endowments he may have had or
wanted, coming within the 'genuine old English' classification, which
has never been exactly ascertained, took his lobster-eyes and his
apoplexy to the club, and choked there all day.

Cleopatra, at one time fretful, at another self-complacent, sometimes
awake, sometimes asleep, and at all times juvenile, reached Brighton the
same night, fell to pieces as usual, and was put away in bed; where a
gloomy fancy might have pictured a more potent skeleton than the maid,
who should have been one, watching at the rose-coloured curtains, which
were carried down to shed their bloom upon her.

It was settled in high council of medical authority that she should take
a carriage airing every day, and that it was important she should
get out every day, and walk if she could. Edith was ready to attend
her--always ready to attend her, with the same mechanical attention and
immovable beauty--and they drove out alone; for Edith had an uneasiness
in the presence of Florence, now that her mother was worse, and told
Florence, with a kiss, that she would rather they two went alone.

Mrs Skewton, on one particular day, was in the irresolute, exacting,
jealous temper that had developed itself on her recovery from her first
attack. After sitting silent in the carriage watching Edith for some
time, she took her hand and kissed it passionately. The hand was neither
given nor withdrawn, but simply yielded to her raising of it, and being
released, dropped down again, almost as if it were insensible. At this
she began to whimper and moan, and say what a mother she had been, and
how she was forgotten! This she continued to do at capricious intervals,
even when they had alighted: when she herself was halting along with the
joint support of Withers and a stick, and Edith was walking by her side,
and the carriage slowly following at a little distance.

It was a bleak, lowering, windy day, and they were out upon the Downs
with nothing but a bare sweep of land between them and the sky. The
mother, with a querulous satisfaction in the monotony of her complaint,
was still repeating it in a low voice from time to time, and the proud
form of her daughter moved beside her slowly, when there cam