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107 Thinking begets thinking ; and, as there were no sounds of Mrs. Corney’s approach, it occurred to Mr. Bumble that it would be an innocent and virtuous way of spending the time, if he were further to allay his curiosity by a cursory glance at the interior of Mrs. Corney’s chest of drawers. Having listened at the key-hole to assure himself that nobody was approaching the chamber, Mr. Bumble, beginning at the bottom, proceeded to make himself acquainted with the contents of the three long drawers; which, being filled with various garments of good fashion and texture, carefully preserved between two layers of old wer sa e sprinkled with dried lavender, seemed to yield him exceeding satisfaction. Arriving in course of time at the yo acct © corner drawer (in which was the key), and beholding therein a small padlocked box, which, being shaken, gave forth a pleasant sound as of the chinking of coin, Mr. Bumble returned with a stately walk to the fireplace, and, resuming his old attitude, said, with a grave and determined air, “I'll do it!” He followed up this remarkable declaration by shaking his head im a wagish manner for ten minutes, as though he were remonstrating with himself for being such a pleasant dog; and then took a view of his legs in profile with much seeming pleasure and interest. He was still placidly engaged in this latter survey when Mrs. Corney, hurrying into the room, threw herself in a breathless state on a chair by the fire-side, and covering her eyes with one hand, placed the other over her heart, and gasped for breath. * Mrs. Corney,” said Mr. Bumble, stooping over the matron, “ what is this, ma’am ? has anything happened ma’am? Pray answer me; I’m on—on—” Mr. Bumble in his alarm could not immediately think of the word “tenterhooks,” so he said “ broken bottles.” “Oh, Mr. Bumble!” cried the lady, “I have been so dreadfully put out!” “Put out, ma’am!” exclaimed Mr. Bumble; “ who has dared to—? I know !? said Mr. Bumble, checking himself with native majesty, “this is them wicious paupers !” “It’s dreadful to think of!” said the lady, shuddering. “Then don’t think of it, ma’am,” rejoined Mr. Bumble. “I can’t help it,” whimpered the lady. “Then take something, ma’am,” said Mr. Bumble soothingly. “A little of the wine?” 6 Not for the world!” replied Mrs. Cor ney. “I couldn’t—oh! The top shelf in the right-hand corner—oh!” Uttering these words, the good lady pointed distractedly to the cupboard, and underwent a poset, dns from internal spasms. Mr, Bumble rushed to the closet, and, snatching a pint green-glass bottle from the shelf thus incoherently indicated, filled a tea-cup with its contents, and held it to the lady’s lips. “I’m better now,” said Mrs. Corney, falling back after drinking half of it. Mr. Bumble raised his eyes piously to the ceiling in thankfulness, and, bringing them down again to the brim of the cup, lifted it to his nose. “ Peppermint,” explained Mrs. Corney in a faint voice, smiling gently on the beadle as she spoke. " it; there’s a little—a little something else in it.” Mr. Bumble tasted the medicine witha doubtful look; smacked his lips, took another taste, and put the cup down empty. “It’s very comforting,” said Mrs. Corney. “Very much so indeed, ma’am” said the beadle. As he spoke, he drew a chair beside the matron, and tenderly inquired what had happened to distress her. s Nothing,” replied Mrs. Corney. am a foolish, excitable, weak creetur.” «Not weak, ma’am,” retorted Mr. Buin ble, drawing his chair a little closer. «“ Are you a weak creetur, Mrs. Corney ?” 6 We are all weak creeturs,” said Mrs. Corney, laying down a general principle. c So we are,” said the beadle. Nothing was said on either side for a minute or two afterwards; and by the expiration of that time Mr. Bumble had illustrated the position by removing his left arm from the back of Mrs. Corney’s chair, where it had previously rested, to Mrs. Corney’s apron-string, round which it gradually became entwined. 6 We are all weak creeturs,” said Mr. Bumble. Mrs. Corney sighed. ! “Don’t sigh, Mrs. Corney,” said Mr. Bumble. “JT can’t help it,” said Mrs. Corney; and she sighed again. “This is a very comfortable room, ma’am,” said Mr. Bumble, looking round. “ Another room and this, ma’am, would be a complete thing.” “Tt would be too much for one,” mur. mured the lady. 66 a
