e bell?
Yes, quite through)," and, saying this last to the tinkling of the
little silver bell, Mr. Grapewine got up from the table, undid the
napkin from his neck, and yawned both his arms quite over his fat, rosy
head as he trode towards the door. Mrs. Grapewine's step was like her
conversation,--sharp and decisive. She took her husband's arm in an
angular manner and led him, still yawning, to the sofa in the library,
where she set herself over against him, ready to hear his plans.

"Let us have a Christmas banquet, my dear," Mr. Grapewine steadily
rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Who?" said Mrs. Grapewine.

"Why, Totty and his wife, and Colonel Killiam, and--and Dr. Tuggle and
lady, and old Mrs. Gildenfenny and--and----" Mr. Grapewine snored.

"Who?" said Mrs. Grapewine, somewhat loudly.

--"And--and--Pill."

"Who's Pill?" said she.

"Why--oh, I mean your poor cousin Pillet. It would be a kindness to him,
you know."

"Yes," said she.

"Will that be enough? Let me see, that is seven--nine with us two."

"Quite enough," said she. And so Mr. Grapewine, arousing himself, rose
from the sofa, put on his hat and coat, and went out to his business.

He was full of the idea. He talked about it to his clerks at the store.
He looked into restaurant windows, humming a tune in the excess of his
delight. He looked into bakers' windows and confectionery shops, and a
whiff of frying bacon from a little blind court he passed almost set him
dancing. Indeed, Mr. Grapewine was a man of juvenile impulse. In figure
as well as character he seemed rather to have expanded into a larger
sort of babyhood than to have left that stage of his life behind. His
face was broad and rosy and whiskerless, his hands were round and
well-dimpled, and his body chubby to a degree. Once an idea got
possession of him, he was its bondsman until another conquered it and
enslaved him anew. But, really loving good cheer above everything else,
his latest whim tickled him into laughter whenever it entered his mind.
It was the happiest idea of his life.

"Why, sir," he said to his book-keeper, "I think if a man would practise
my system he could easily eat a whole turkey--not to speak of other
dishes--at a meal. Magnificent idea! William. I wonder no one ever
thought of it before. Wonderful!"

"A little bilious, sir," said William.

"Bilious! bilious! Why, my man, how can anything produce biliousness in
an empty stomach? No; it may bring inertia,--the L