therine altered the position of every chair and table in Margaret's
house; and perhaps for the better.

But she must go farther, and upset the live furniture.

When Margaret's time was close at hand, Catherine treacherously invited
the aid of Denys and Martin; and on the poor, simple-minded fellows
asking her earnestly what service they could be, she told them they
might make themselves comparatively useful by going for a little walk.
So far so good. But she intimated further that should the promenade
extend into the middle of next week all the better. This was not
ingratiating. The subsequent conduct of the strong under the yoke of the
weak might have propitiated a she-bear with three cubs, one sickly.
They generally slipped out of the house at daybreak; and stole in like
thieves at night; and if by any chance they were at home, they went
about like cats on a wall tipped with broken glass, and wearing
awe-struck visages, and a general air of subjugation and depression.

But all would not do. Their very presence was ill-timed; and jarred upon
Catherine's nerves.

Did instinct whisper, a pair of depopulators had no business in a house
with multipliers twain?

The breastplate is no armour against a female tongue; and Catherine ran
infinite pins and needles of speech into them. In a word, when Margaret
came down stairs, she found the kitchen swept of heroes.

Martin, old and stiff, had retreated no farther than the street, and
with the honours of war: for he had carried off his baggage, a stool;
and sat on it in the air.

Margaret saw he was out in the sun; but was not aware he was a fixture
in that luminary. She asked for Denys. "Good, kind Denys; he will be
right pleased to see me about again."

Catherine, wiping a bowl with now superfluous vigour, told her Denys was
gone to his friends in Burgundy. "And high time, Hasn't been anigh them
this three years, by all accounts."

"What, gone without bidding me farewell?" said Margaret, uplifting two
tender eyes like full-blown violets.

Catherine reddened. For this new view of the matter set her conscience
pricking her.

But she gave a little toss and said, "Oh, you were asleep at the time:
and I would not have you wakened."

"Poor Denys," said Margaret, and the dew gathered visibly on the open
violets.

Catherine saw out of the corner of her eye, and without taking a bit of
open notice, slipped off and lavished hospitality and tenderness on the
surviving depo