led up from the kitchen into my room, and though
never used, formed one of those abominable listening tubes that might be
truthfully called family tale-bearers. This time, however, I had the
pleasure of overhearing the following fragmentary evidence of a
reaction:

'He must be crazy.' 'Did he drink much after dinner?' 'I say, you have
been here longer than I have, have you ever seen him so before?' Then a
giggle, and some one saying: 'Is he married?'

'Sabina, ain't you ashamed to laugh?'--'poor thing--won't
stay--gallows'--then silence, and in a few minutes one after another of
the visitors passed by under the window on tip-toe, and almost
immediately a soft knock and a pause. I thought * * * and acted.

'Come in,' said I, in one of those gentle and subdued voices that no one
but a passionate man can possess. The door gradually opened, and there
stood Susan, the devoted aunt.

I had placed a volume of engravings before my eyes, and was busily
engaged in drawing some plan, on paper, as she entered. I went on for a
little while in silence, when she said:

'I understood, sir----'

I said 'wait a minute,' and went on ruling one entire side, with double
lines, in perfect forgetfulness of her presence.

When she spoke again, 'Did you send for me, sir?' I would have answered
at once, for I felt awfully at appearing such a tyro; but the case was a
desperate one of long standing, and required heroic treatment. I kept
her waiting, at first as a lesson, that her imagination might take wings
and fly to the uttermost realms of unhappiness. The second time, I
thought I detected a little impatience in her voice, so I said, taking a
pen and dipping it in red ink, 'wait one moment, Susan,' and went on
lining and interlining. This was not reading, studying, nor writing; it
was what she very well knew I could do any time. So it told on her. Each
moment her valor oozed out, and as soon as I felt that the cup of
bitterness was pretty well drained, I proceeded to offer up this victim
as a sacrifice to peace.

'Susan, how is your sister's child?'

I looked straight into her. There was no sternness or smartness in my
expression, but the gaze was mathematical. I was measuring her candor,
and analyzing her mind.

She colored up and said, 'he's no better, sir; and they've given him up:
but the doctor says good nursing will do wonders.'

'I think so, too. Go back to your sister and stay till he is better; I
will supply your place.'