l girl
was engaged as servant. She did most of the nursing as well, and,
having a great love for the sensational, took a grave view of her
mistress's condition.

It was a relief to Mr. Gribble when his wife came downstairs again, and
he was cheered to see that she looked much better. His satisfaction was
so marked that it brought on her cough again.

"It's this house, I think," she said, with a resigned smile. "It never
did agree with me.

"Well, you've lived in it a good many years," said her husband,
controlling himself with difficulty.

"It's rather dark and small," said Mrs. Gribble. "Not but what it is
good enough for me. And I dare say it will last my time."

"Nonsense!" said her husband, gruffly. "You want to get out a bit
more. You've got nothing to do now we are wasting all this money on a
servant. Why don't you go out for little walks?"

Mrs. Gribble went, after several promptings, and the fruit of one of
them was handed by the postman to Mr. Gribble a few days afterwards.
Half-choking with wrath and astonishment, he stood over his trembling
wife with the first draper's bill he had ever received.

"One pound two shillings and threepence three-farthings!" he recited.
"It must be a mistake. It must be for somebody else."

Mrs. Gribble, with her hand to her heart, tottered to the sofa and lay
there with her eyes closed.

"I had to get some dress material," she said, in a quavering voice.
"You want me to go out, and I'm so shabby I'm ashamed to be seen."

Mr. Gribble made muffled noises in his throat; then, afraid to trust
himself, he went into the back-yard and, taking a seat on an upturned
bucket, sat with his head in his hands peering into the future.

The dressmaker's bill and a bill for a new hat came after the next
monthly payment; and a bill for shoes came a week later. Hoping much
from the well-known curative effects of fine feathers, he managed to
treat the affair with dignified silence. The only time he allowed full
play to his feelings Mrs. Gribble took to her bed for two days, and the
doctor had a heart-to-heart talk with him on the doorstep.

It was a matter of great annoyance to him that his wife still continued
to attribute her ill-health to the smallness and darkness of the house;
and the fact that there were only two of the houses in Charlton Grove
left caused a marked depression of spirits. It was clear that she was
fretting. The small servant went further, and said that