reputation of
the St. Cecilia Society. Mr. Constance was highly pleased with the
finding; and finally it proved the sovereign balm that healed all their
wounds. Of course, the Knight, having departed, was spared his blood."

Here Mr. Soloman makes a pause. Mrs. Swiggs, with a sigh, says, "Is that
all?"

"Quite enough for once, my good Madam," Mr. Soloman bows in return.

"Oh! I am so glad the St. Cecilia is yet spared to us. You said, you
know, it was all up with it--"

"Up? up?--so it is! That is, it won't break it up, you know. Why--oh, I
see where the mistake is--it isn't all over, you know, seeing how the
society can live through a score of nine-months scandals. But the
thing's in every vulgar fellow's lips--that is the worst of it."

Mrs. Swiggs relishes this bit of gossip as if it were a dainty morsel;
and calling Rebecca, she commands her to forthwith proceed into the
cellar and bring a bottle of the old Madeira--she has only five
left--for Mr. Soloman. And to Mr. Soloman's great delight, the old
negress hastily obeys the summons; brings forth a mass of cobweb and
dust, from which a venerable black bottle is disinterred, uncorked, and
presented to the guest, who drinks the health of Mrs. Swiggs in sundry
well-filled glasses, which he declares choice, adding, that it always
reminds him of the age and dignity of the family. Like the State,
dignity is Mrs. Swiggs' weakness--her besetting sin. Mr. Soloman, having
found the key to this vain woman's generosity, turns it when it suits
his own convenience.

"By-the-bye," he suddenly exclaims, "you've got Tom locked up again."

"As safe as he ever was, I warrant ye!" Mrs. Swiggs replies, resuming
her Milton and rocking-chair.

"Upon my faith I agree with you. Never let him get out, for he is sure
to disgrace the family when he does--"

"I've said he shall rot there, and he shall rot! He never shall get out
to disgrace the family--no, not if I live to be as gray as Methuselah, I
warrant you!" And Mr. Soloman, having made his compliments to the sixth
glass, draws from his breast pocket a legal-looking paper, which he
passes to Mrs. Swiggs, as she ejaculates, "Oh! I am glad you thought of
that."

Mr. Soloman, watching intently the changes of her face, says, "You will
observe, Madam, I have mentioned the cripples. There are five of them.
We are good friends, you see; and it is always better to be precise in
those things. It preserves friendship. This is merely a