that we are like the rest of
the world?" But no; here he stays all through, and here he is. Why, good
gracious me, suppose the house was to be let! What would he do then? He
couldn't remain here then. If he attempted to do so, there would be an
ejectment, an action for Doe, and all sorts of things; and then he must
go. Then why not go at first instead of at last? And that brings me back
to what I said just now, and I naturally ask what is to be the end of
it?'

'I know what's to be the end of it, as far as I am concerned,' replies
Mrs Pipchin, 'and that's enough for me. I'm going to take myself off in
a jiffy.'

'In a which, Mrs Pipchin,' says Mrs Chick.

'In a jiffy,' retorts Mrs Pipchin sharply.

'Ah, well! really I can't blame you, Mrs Pipchin,' says Mrs Chick, with
frankness.

'It would be pretty much the same to me, if you could,' replies the
sardonic Pipchin. 'At any rate I'm going. I can't stop here. I should
be dead in a week. I had to cook my own pork chop yesterday, and I'm not
used to it. My constitution will be giving way next. Besides, I had a
very fair connexion at Brighton when I came here--little Pankey's folks
alone were worth a good eighty pounds a-year to me--and I can't afford
to throw it away. I've written to my niece, and she expects me by this
time.'

'Have you spoken to my brother?' inquires Mrs Chick

'Oh, yes, it's very easy to say speak to him,' retorts Mrs Pipchin. 'How
is it done? I called out to him yesterday, that I was no use here, and
that he had better let me send for Mrs Richards. He grunted something
or other that meant yes, and I sent. Grunt indeed! If he had been Mr
Pipchin, he'd have had some reason to grunt. Yah! I've no patience with
it!'

Here this exemplary female, who has pumped up so much fortitude and
virtue from the depths of the Peruvian mines, rises from her cushioned
property to see Mrs Chick to the door. Mrs Chick, deploring to the
last the peculiar character of her brother, noiselessly retires, much
occupied with her own sagacity and clearness of head.

In the dusk of the evening Mr Toodle, being off duty, arrives with Polly
and a box, and leaves them, with a sounding kiss, in the hall of the
empty house, the retired character of which affects Mr Toodle's spirits
strongly.

'I tell you what, Polly, me dear,' says Mr Toodle, 'being now an
ingine-driver, and well to do in the world, I shouldn't allow of your
coming here, to be made dull-like, if it warn't