ere more surprised an evening or two later to see Mr. Wilks leave
his house to pay a return visit, bearing in his hand a small bunch of his
cherished blooms. That they were blooms which would have paid the debt
of Nature in a few hours at most in no way detracted from the widow's
expressions of pleasure at receiving them, and Mr. Wilks, who had been
invited over to cheer up Mr. Silk, who was in a particularly black mood,
sat and smiled like a detected philanthropist as she placed them in
water.

[Illustration: "A return visit."]

"Good evenin', Teddy," he said, breezily, with a side-glance at his
hostess. "What a lovely day we've 'ad."

"So bright," said Mrs. Silk, nodding with spirit.

Mr. Wilks sat down and gave vent to such a cheerful laugh that the
ornaments on the mantelpiece shook with it. "It's good to be alive,"
he declared.

"Ah, you enjoy your life, Mr. Wilks," said the widow.

"Enjoy it!" roared Mr. Wilks; "enjoy it! Why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't
everybody enjoy their lives? It was what they was given to us for."

"So they was," affirmed Mrs. Silk; "nobody can deny that; not if they
try."

"Nobody wants to deny it, ma'am," retorted Mr. Wilks, in the high voice
he kept for cheering-up purposes. "I enjoy every day o' my life."

He filled his pipe, chuckling serenely, and having lit it sat and enjoyed
that. Mrs. Silk retired for a space, and returning with a jug of ale
poured him out a glass and set it by his elbow.

"Here's your good 'ealth, ma'am," said Mr. Wilks, raising it. "Here's
yours, Teddy--a long life and a 'appy one."

Mr. Silk turned listlessly. "I don't want a long life," he remarked.

His mother and her visitor exchanged glances.

"That's 'ow 'e goes on," remarked the former, in an audible whisper. Mr.
Wilks nodded, reassuringly.

"I 'ad them ideas once," he said, "but they go off. If you could only
live to see Teddy at the age o' ninety-five, 'e wouldn't want to go then.
'E'd say it was crool hard, being cut off in the flower of 'is youth."

Mrs. Silk laughed gaily and Mr. Wilks bellowed a gruff accompaniment.
Mr. Edward Silk eyed them pityingly.

"That's the 'ardship of it," he said, slowly, as he looked round from his
seat by the fireplace; "that's where the 'ollowness of things comes in.
That's where I envy Mr. Wilks."

"Envy me?" said the smiling visitor; "what for?"

"Because you're so near the grave," said Mr. Silk.

Mr. Wilks, who was taking another draug