escent. As he sat
there, she saw in his grizzled head against the light; in the strong
hand resting on the table, moving now and then as though keeping time to
some slow tune; in the other, motionless upon his knee, an image that
made her ask herself the question:--"What would Samuel Johnson have been
as a prizefighter?" She was not properly shocked, but perhaps that was
because she was quick-witted enough to perceive that Uncle Mo had only
said, in the blunt tongue of the secular world, what would have sounded
an impressive utterance, in another form, from the lips of the sage of
whom he had reminded her. She felt she _ought_ to say that the Lord
would assuredly--a solemn word that!--do what He liked with His own,
supplying capitals. She gave it up as out of her line, and went on to
business.

"Any of us may die, at any minute, Mr. Wardle," said she. "But my cousin
is twenty times as likely to die as you or I, because she's got Typhus
Fever, and half the cases are fatal, more or less.... They told me how
many; I've forgotten.... What's that?--is it the locksmith man?" For a
knock had come at the street-door, and the sound was as the sound of an
operative who had to be back in half an hour or his Governor would cut
up rough. He was therefore directed to go upstairs and cast his eye on
the job, and the lady would come up in five minutes to see the things
took out of the drawer.

"Stop a minute, Aunt M'riar," said the lady. "He mustn't make a mistake
and open it, till I come. Please tell him, to make sure!" And Aunt
M'riar would have started on her errand if she had not been stopped by
what followed. "Or--look here! Let Dave go. You go up, Dave, and say he
mustn't touch the lock till I come. Run along, and stop there to see
that he does as you tell him." Whereupon, off went Dave, shouting his
instructions as soon as he got to the second landing. He felt like a
Police-Inspector, or a Warden of the Marches.

As soon as Dave had left tranquillity behind, Gwen set herself to
anticipate an anxiety she saw Aunt M'riar wanted to express, but was
hanging fire over. "You needn't be afraid about this chick, Aunt
M'riar," she said. "It isn't really infectious, only contagious. You can
only get it from the patient. Dr. Dalrymple says so. Like the thing you
can only buy of the maker. Besides, I've hardly been in the room; they
make such a fuss, and won't allow me. And I'm not living in the house at
all, but at my father's in Park L