devouring his substance, almost deprived him of speech.

"Poor things," said his wife, after the guests had gone; "they did enjoy
it. It's cheered 'em up wonderful. You and Mr. Purnip are quite right.
I can see that now. You can tell him that it was you what put it into my
'art."

"Me? Why, I never dreamt o' such a thing," declared the surprised Mr.
Billing. "And there's other ways of doing good besides asking a pack of
old women in to tea."

"I know there is," said his wife. "All in good time," she added, with a
far-away look in her eyes.

Mr. Billing cleared his throat, but nothing came of it. He cleared it
again.

"I couldn't let you do all the good," said his wife, hastily. "It
wouldn't be fair. I must help."

Mr. Billing lit his pipe noisily, and then took it out into the back-yard
and sat down to think over the situation. The ungenerous idea that his
wife was making goodness serve her own ends was the first that occurred
to him.

His suspicions increased with time. Mrs. Billing's good works seemed to
be almost entirely connected with hospitality. True, she had entertained
Mr. Purnip and one of the ladies from the Settlement to tea, but that
only riveted his bonds more firmly. Other visitors included his sister-
in-law, for whom he had a great distaste, and some of the worst-behaved