thing to feel very angry about a baby, and another to wish that
helpless little atom of humanity positive ill. Mr Martin was an old
bachelor, and even mothers could scarcely blame him for objecting to
having his first sweet sleep disturbed by the wailings of a child who was
cutting its teeth. Mr Martin meant what he said when he proposed to
change lodgings.

'Some one else can have my present room,' he remarked. 'It would be
preposterous to send that infant to the workhouse. A less sensitive
person than I am can occupy my present parlour and bedroom; comfortable
rooms, too.' He sighed as he went out.

He was a man who disliked change, and he felt that he had been treated
badly. Mrs Franklin had no right to bring a wailing niece of a few weeks
old into the house where he lived, and it was unfair and inconsiderate.
Well, there was no help for it; the baby had come and could not be
displaced, and now there was nothing for it but for him to engage the
rooms opposite, which were certainly not nearly so nice, nor so much to
his taste. He had promised Mrs Franklin that he would give her a short
time to consider, but in his heart of hearts he was quite certain that he
must take the detested step.

Mr Martin was a retired merchant. He had plenty of money, and his
working days were over. He generally went to his club in the morning,
and he always returned about one o'clock in the day to a comfortable mid-
day repast. Always sharp as the clock struck one, Martha placed upon Mr
Martin's board a smoking steak done to perfection. He had the same lunch
every day--he drank a glass of ale with his steak. He required this
simple meal to be served with regularity. He insisted that his steak
should always be tender and properly cooked--that was all--he would not
have stayed a week in any lodgings where the landlady could not provide
him with his steak and glass of beer as he liked them, sharp at one
o'clock.

To-day he returned as usual, sighing a little as he entered the square.

What a troublesome baby that was! What a nuisance it would be to move!
He doubted very much if the people opposite knew how to cook steak. He
let himself into the house with his latchkey, hung up his coat and hat in
the hall--he was a most methodical old gentleman--and turned into his
parlour. He expected the usual scene to meet his eyes, the fire burning
brightly, a snowy cloth on the table, and Martha in the act of placing an
appetising cov