Miss Peecher’s favourite pupil, who assisted her in her little household, was in attendance with a can of water to replenish her little watering-pot, and sufficiently divined the state of Miss Peecher’s affections to feel it necessary that she herself should love young Charley Hexam. So, there was a double palpitation among the double stocks and double wallflowers, when the master and the boy looked over the little gate.

“A fine evening, Miss Peecher,” said the Master.

“A very fine evening, Mr. Headstone,” said Miss Peecher. “Are you taking a walk?”

“Hexam and I are going to take a long walk.”

“Charming weather,” remarked Miss Peecher, “ for a long walk.”