"Hold your tongue, Mrs. Poole."

"Yes, Sammy, dear, I'll hold my tongue. But Sammy shan't be imposed upon
by mendicants; for I know he is a mendicant--one of those sharpers or
blacklegs who took oo in, poor innocent Sam, in oo wild bachelor days,
and oo good heart can't bear to see him in distress; but there must be an
end to all things."

"Mrs. Poole--Mrs. Poole-will you stop your fool's jaw or not?"

"My poor dear hubby," said the angel, squeezing out a mild tear, "oo will
be in good hands to advise oo; for I've been and told Pa!"

"You have," faltered Poole, "told your father--you have!" and the
expression of his face became so ghastly that Mrs. Poole grew seriously
terrified. She had long felt that there was something very suspicious in
her husband's submission to the insolence of so rude a visitor. But she
knew that he was not brave; the man might intimidate him by threats of
personal violence. The man might probably be some poor relation, or some
one whom Poole had ruined, either in bygone discreditable sporting 'days,
or in recent respectable mercantile speculations. But at that ghastly
look a glimpse of the real truth broke upon her; and she stood speechless
and appalled. At this moment there was a loud ring at the street-door
bell. Poole gathered himself up, and staggered out of the room into the
passage.

His wife remained without motion; for the first time she conceived a fear
of her husband. Presently she heard a harsh female voice in the hall,
and then a joyous exclamation from Poole himself. Recovered by these