breath, becomes as he was before. On his so subsiding in his
chair, his nephew gently and assiduously tends him while he quite
recovers. When Jasper is restored, he lays a tender hand upon his
nephew's shoulder, and, in a tone of voice less troubled than the
purport of his words--indeed with something of raillery or banter
in it--thus addresses him:

'There is said to be a hidden skeleton in every house; but you
thought there was none in mine, dear Ned.'

'Upon my life, Jack, I did think so. However, when I come to
consider that even in Pussy's house--if she had one--and in mine--
if I had one--'

'You were going to say (but that I interrupted you in spite of
myself) what a quiet life mine is. No whirl and uproar around me,
no distracting commerce or calculation, no risk, no change of
place, myself devoted to the art I pursue, my business my
pleasure.'

'I really was going to say something of the kind, Jack; but you
see, you, speaking of yourself, almost necessarily leave out much
that I should have put in. For instance: I should have put in the
foreground your being so much respected as Lay Precentor, or Lay
Clerk, or whatever you call it, of this Cathedral; your enjoying
the reputation of having done such wonders with the choir; your
choosing your society, and holding such an independent position in
this queer old place; your gift of teaching (why, even Pussy, who
don't like being taught, says there never was such a Master as you
are!), and your connexion.'