“To reason with her,” pursued Bradley, half humouring what was present, and half angry with what was not present; “for her own sake.”

“Oh Mrs. T.!” exclaimed the dressmaker.

“For her own sake,” repeated Bradley, warming, “and for her brother’s, and as a perfectly disinterested person.”

“Really, Mrs. T. ,” remarked the dressmaker, “since it comes to this, we must positively turn you with your face to the wall.” She had hardly done so, when Lizzie Hexam arrived, and showed some surprise on seeing Bradley Headstone there, and Jenny shaking her little fist at him close before her eyes, and the Honourable Mrs. T. with her face to the wall.