at's Susan all over."

"She's a wicked, untruthful woman," gasped Mr. Cox.

"I never did like Susan," said Mr. Piper, with acerbity, "never."

Mr. Cox said he could easily understand it, and then, as a forlorn hope,
sat down and wrote a long letter to his wife, in which, after dwelling
at great length on the lamentable circumstances surrounding the sudden
demise of Mr. Piper, he bade her thank Mrs. Berry for her well-meant
efforts to ease his mind, and asked for the immediate dispatch of the
money promised.

A reply came the following evening from Mrs. Berry herself. It was a
long letter, and not only long, but badly written and crossed. It began
with the weather, asked after Mr. Cox's health, and referred to the
writer's; described with much minuteness a strange headache which had
attacked Mrs. Cox, together with a long list of the remedies prescribed
and the effects of each, and wound up in an out-of-the-way corner, in
a vein of cheery optimism which reduced both readers to the verge of
madness.

"Dear Uncle Joseph has quite recovered, and, in spite of a little
nervousness--he was always rather timid--at meeting you again, has
consented to go to the White Horse to satisfy you that he is alive. I
dare say he will be with you as soon as this letter--perhaps help you to
read it."

Mr. Cox laid the letter down with extreme care, and, coughing gently,
glanced in a sheepish fashion at the goggle-eyed Mr. Piper.

For some time neither of them spoke. Mr. Cox was the first to break the
silence and--when he had finished--Mr. Piper said "Hush."

"Besides, it does no good," he added.

"It does _me_ good," said Mr. Cox, recommencing.

Mr. Piper held up his hand with a startled gesture for silence. The
words died away on his friend's lips as a familiar voice was heard in
the passage, and the next moment Mrs. Berry entered the room and stood
regarding them.

"I ran down by the same train to make sure you came, uncle," she
remarked. "How long have you been here?"

Mr. Piper moistened his lips and gazed wildly at Mr. Cox for guidance.

"'Bout--'bout five minutes," he stammered.

"We were so glad dear uncle wasn't hurt much," continued Mrs. Berry,
smiling, and shaking her head at Mr. Cox; "but the idea of your burying
him in the geranium-bed; we haven't got him clean yet."

Mr. Piper, giving utterance to uncouth noises, quitted the room hastily,
but Mr. Cox sat still and stared at her dumbly.

"Weren't you surprised