ife. I've not seen her sleep like that
for weeks. Look at her, Jim; ain't she like her old self?"

"Yes, father, she don't need no paint and flour to make a fairy on her
just now. She's just like what she was the last time I seed her go up
in a gauze cloud to heaven, with red and blue fire blazin' all round
her."

"I'll bid ye good-night now," said Willie, buttoning up his jacket to
the chin, and pulling his cap down on his brows with the air of a man
who has a long walk before him.

"You're off, are you--eh?" said the elder clown, rising and taking
Willie by the hand, "well, you're a good lad. Thank'ee for comin' here
an' takin' care of Ziza. My subterranean grotto ain't much to boast of,
but such as it is you're welcome to it at all times. Good-night."

"Good-night," said Willie; "good-night, Jim." Jim replied good-night
heartily, and then Willie stepped into the dark passage. He glanced
back at the fairy before shutting the door, but her eyes were closed, so
he said good-night to her in his heart, and went home.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

HOME LIFE.

"My dear Miss Tippet, I shall never, no never, get over it."

So said, and so undoubtedly thought, a thin little old lady with
remarkably bright eyes, and a sweet old face, as she sat sipping tea at
Miss Tippet's elbow.

It was in the drawing-room of Miss Deemas that she sat, and the Eagle
sat opposite to her.

"It was very dreadful," responded Miss Tippet with a sigh--"very."

"It was awful. I know I shall never get over it,--never," repeated the
little old lady, finishing her tea, and asking for another cup in the
calmest possible voice, with the sweetest possible smile.

"Oh yes, you will, Mrs Denman," said Miss Deemas snappishly.

"No, indeed, I won't," repeated Mrs Denman; "how can I? Just think of
the situation. Sitting in my chair in dishabille, when a man--a Man,
Miss Dee--"

"Well, I know what a _man_ is," said the Eagle bitterly; "why don't you
go on?"

"Burst himself through my bedroom-door," continued Mrs Denman, "with
lime and charcoal and brick-dust and water streaming down his face--
f-fo-olded me in his arms, bore me out into the street--the _street_!
Oh! I shall never, _never_ get over it; and so little, so _very_ little
clothing on me--"

"How much had you on?" asked Miss Deemas in a deep voice, the calmness
of which contrasted forcibly with Mrs Denman's excited tones.

"Really, Miss Deemas, I see no necessity for going i