mean-looking things, after all. Stuffwell has the fellow-chair to
this--one chair does look strange! I wonder it has never struck me before;
but it is surprising--what--strange ide--as a man--has"--and Collumpsion
fell asleep.

It was broad day when Collumpsion awoke; the fire had gone out, and his
feet were as cold as ice. He (as he is married there's no necessity for
concealment)--he swore two or three naughty oaths, and taking off his
clothes, hurried into bed in the hope of getting warm.

"How confoundedly cold I am--sitting in that chair all night,
too--ridiculous. If I had had a--I mean, if I hadn't been alone, that
wouldn't have happened; she would have waked me." _She_--what the deuce
made him use the feminine pronoun!

At two o'clock he rose and entered his breakfast-room. The table was laid
as usual--_one_ large cup and saucer, _one_ plate, _one_ egg-cup, _one_
knife, and _one_ fork! He did not know wherefore, but he felt to want the
number increased. John brought up a slice of broiled salmon and _one_ egg.
Collumpsion got into a passion, and ordered a second edition. The morning
was rainy, so Collumpsion remained at home, and employed himself by
kicking about the ottoman, and mentally multiplying all the single
articles in his establishment by two.

The dinner hour arrived, and there was the same singular provision for
one. He rang the bell, and ordered John to furnish the table for
_another_. John obeyed, though not without some strong misgiving of his
master's sanity, as the edibles consisted of a sole, a mutton chop, and a
partridge. When John left the room at his master's request, Collumpsion
rose and locked the door. Having placed a chair opposite, he resumed his