ate his
dinner off the floor, gold studs an' all, as I told 'un at last.
For 'twasn't in flesh and blood, sir--not to be ordered this way an'
that by a whipper-snapper whose gran'mother I might 'a been, though
he _'as_ got three rows o' shiny buttons on 'is stummick, which is no
cause for a proud carriage toward them as 'asn't, nor callin' 'em
slow-coaches and names which I won't soil my tongue wi'--an' so I
said. Aw dear! aw dear!" And here Mrs. Snell's passion again found
vent in violent sobs and cries.

"Hush! Confound it! Hush! I tell you. You'll have the whole town
out."

"I beg your pardon, sir--boo-hoo!--but it isn't in natur', sich
wickedness in 'igh places, an' pore Maria sick at 'ome wi' the colic
an' a leak in the roof you might put your cocked 'at through, an'
very fine it looks, sir, beggin' your parding agen, which is all
vexashun o' sperrit on a shillin' a day an' your vittles, let alone
bein' swore at 'till you dunno whether you be 'pon your 'ed or your
'eels."

With this Mrs. Snell picked up her bundle and marched off down the
road. She was quite hopeless, the Admiral determined, as he watched
her retreating figure and heard her sobs borne back to him on the
evening air. Well, well! it had been another reverse--but not a
defeat. His face cleared again as he turned to re-enter the house.

"Let me see: to-morrow is Sunday. They will probably be at church.
In the afternoon, though it involve the loss of my usual nap, I will
consider. On Monday I will act."

Even the strangers themselves, as they walked up the aisle of St.
Symphorian's Church, Troy, on the following morning, could not but
perceive something of importance to be in the wind. That the church
should be full was not unusual, for in those days Sunday Observance
was the rule among Trojans. But on this particular day the Wesleyan
and Bible Christian chapels must have been sadly depleted, so great
was the crush; and, besides, there was the unwonted magnificence of
dress, the stir caused by the simultaneous turning of some hundred
bonnets as the Goodwyn-Sandys entered, the audible whispering as they
took their seats, the nervousness of the Vicar, who twice dropped his
spectacles over the reading desk and once over the pulpit. On this
last occasion one of the glasses was broken, and the sermon in
consequence became, towards the end, a trifle involved. All this
made the service rather hysterical.

Tell me, my Muse, thou who sitte