again.

'Matter!' shrieked Jawleyford, in a tone that sounded through the thick
wall of the room, and caused the hobbling old gardener on the terrace to
peep in at the heavy-mullioned window. 'Matter!' repeated he, as though he
had got his _coup de grace_; 'look there,' added he, handing over the
letter.

'Oh, my dear,' rejoined Mrs. Jawleyford soothingly, as soon as she saw it
was not what she expected. 'Oh, my dear, I'm sure there's nothing to make
you put yourself so much out of the way.' 'No!' roared Jawleyford,
determined not to be done out of his grievance. 'No!' repeated he; 'do you
call that nothing?'

'Why, nothing to make yourself unhappy about,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford,
rather pleased than otherwise; for she was glad it was not from Rings, the
jeweller, and, moreover, hated the monotony of Jawleyford Court, and was
glad of anything to relieve it. If she had had her own way, she would have
gadded about at watering-places all the year round.

'Well,' said Jawleyford, with a toss of the head and a shrug of
resignation, 'you'll have me in gaol; I see that.'

'Nay, my dear J.,' rejoined his wife, soothingly; 'I'm sure you've plenty
of money.'

'Have I!' ejaculated Jawleyford. 'Do you suppose, if I had, I'd have left
Laverick Wells without paying Miss Bustlebey, or given a bill at three
months for the house-rent?'

'Well, but, my dear, you've nothing to do but tell Mr. Screwemtight to get
you some money from the tenants.'

'Money from the tenants!' replied Mr. Jawleyford. 'Screwemtight tells me he
can't get another farthing from any man on the estate.'

'Oh, pooh!' said Mrs. Jawleyford; 'you're far too good to them. I always
say Screwemtight looks far more to their interest than he does to yours.'

[Illustration]

Jawleyford, we may observe, was one of the rather numerous race of
paper-booted, pen-and-ink landowners. He always dressed in the country as
he would in St. James's Street, and his communications with his tenantry
were chiefly confined to dining with them twice a year in the great
entrance-hall, after Mr. Screwemtight had eased them of their cash in the
steward's room. Then Mr. Jawleyford would shine forth the very
impersonification of what a landlord ought to be. Dressed in the height of
the fashion, as if by his clothes to give the lie to his words, he would
expatiate on the delights of such meetings of equality; declare that, next
to those spent with his family, the only really happy mome