t used to it. You'll tell me when you'd like
something to eat if you get faint.'

'I am not likely to grow faint, mother, if I do nothing.'

'Well, well; I have a sinking feeling now and then, I thought you might
be the same.'

Just when his dinner in the oven had had time to grow crusty, Mr. Hood
arrived. He was a rather tall man, of sallow complexion, with greyish
hair. The peculiarly melancholy expression of his face was due to the
excessive drooping of his eyelids under rounded brows; beneath the eyes
were heavy lines; he generally looked like one who has passed through a
night of sleepless grief. He wore a suit of black, which had for several
years been his reserve attire, till it grew too seamy for use on
Sundays. The whole look of the man was saddening; to pass him in the
street as a stranger was to experience a momentary heaviness of heart.
He had very long slender fingers--Emily's matchless hand in a
rudimentary form--and it seemed to be a particular solicitude to keep
them scrupulously clean; he frequently examined them, and appeared to
have a pleasure in handling things in a dainty way--the pages of a
book, for instance. When he smiled it was obviously with effort--a
painful smile, for all that an exceedingly gentle one. In his voice
there was the same gentleness, a self-suppression, as it were; his way
of speaking half explained his want of success in life.

Emily was standing at the window in expectation of his coming. As soon
as he reached the iron gate in front of the house she ran to open the
door for him. He did not quicken his step, even stopped to close the
gate with deliberate care, but if his face could ever be said to light
up, it did so as he bent to the girl's kiss. She took his hat from him,
and went to see that his dinner was made ready.

'How fine it is!' he said in his subdued tone, when he came downstairs
and stood by the table stroking his newly washed hands. 'Shall we have a
walk before tea-time? Mother is too busy, I'm afraid.'

Mrs. Hood came into the room shortly, and seated herself in the usual
way.

'Did you bring the cake?' she asked, when her presence had caused
silence for a few moments.

'The cake?' he repeated in surprise.

'Didn't I ask you to bring a cake? I suppose my memory is going; I meant
to, and thought I mentioned it at breakfast. I shall have nothing for
Emily's tea.'

Emily protested that it was needless to get unusual things on her
account.

'We must do