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Rh chair, which was the only available seat immediately at hand, and twitched nervously at his old hat; an operation which seemed likely to result in the immediate dissolution of that article of apparel. It is always an awkward thing, that hat. There are only three classes of visitors who are permitted to know what to do with it when they take it into a house which is not their own. The friend of the family, who comes to spend the evening, leaves it with the man in the hall; the ordinary visitor places it on an unoccupied chair, and the carpenter deposits it on the ground; but all others are required to hold it in their hands during an interview, and yet, if possible, to keep it out of sight. Johnny's was a self-assertive hat, which did not admit of easy concealment; so he fidgeted it about until it actually appeared to be taking a prominent part in the conversation.

“Now, then,” said Mrs. Pintle, “what do you want? I suppose it's nothing about the will?”

“Nothing about the will, ma'am. I've not been in the way of hearing about it lately.”

“Well, then, what in goodness's name do you want? Speak out, man, and have done with it.”

Mrs. Pintle was one of that numerous class of mourners whose grief takes the form of irritability. Besides, she had jumped to the conclusion that Johnny's visit referred to the missing document, and was disappointed.

“Ma'am, I've never done this before, but it's help I've come for. I've been Mr. Pintle's clerk, man and boy, for five-and-forty year; and—and—now I'm in