LITMIR.BIZ

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the note was about. She did not pretend to busy herself about anything. There was no subterfuge in Matty. She had been Miss Tippet’s confidential servant before entering the service of Mr Auberly, and her extremely short stay in Beverly Square had not altered that condition. She had come to feel that she had a right to know all Miss Tippet’s affairs, and so waited for information.

      “Ah!” exclaimed Miss Tippet, still reading, “yes; ‘get him a situation in your brother’s office,’ (oh, certainly, I’ll be sure to get that); ‘he seems smart, I might almost say impu—’ Ahem! Yes, well—.”

      “Boy,” said Miss Tippet, turning suddenly to Willie, “your name is William Willders, I believe?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Well, William, Mr Auberly, my relative, asks me to get you into my brother’s—my brother’s, what’s ’is name—office. Of course, I shall be happy to try. I am always extremely happy to do anything for—yes, I suppose of course you can write, and, what d’ye call it—count—you can do arithmetic?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” replied Willie.

      “And you can spell—eh? I hope you can spell, Edward, a—I mean Thomas—is it, or William?”

      Miss Tippet looked at Willie so earnestly and put this question in tones so solemn that he was much impressed, and felt as if all his earthly hopes hung on his reply, so he admitted that he could spell.

      “Good,” continued Miss Tippet. “You are, I suppose, in rather poor circumstances. Is your father poor?”

      “He’s dead, ma’am; was drowned.”

      “Oh! shocking, that’s very sad. Was your mother drowned, too?”

      “No, ma’am, she’s alive and well—at least she’s well for her, but she an’t over strong. That’s why I want to get work, that I may help her; and she wants me to be a clerk in a office, but I’d rather be a fireman. You couldn’t make me a fireman, could you, ma’am?”

      At this point Willie caught Miss Ward gazing intently at him over the top of her slate, so he threw her into violent confusion by winking at her.

      “No, boy, I can’t make you a fireman. Strange wish—why d’you want to be one?”

      “’Cause it’s such jolly fun,” replied Willie; with real enthusiasm, “reg’lar bangin’ crashin’ sort o’ work—as good as fightin’ any day! An’ my brother Frank’s a fireman. Such a one, too, you’ve no notion; six fut four he is, an’ as strong as—oh, why, ma’am, he could take you up in one hand, ma’am, an’ twirl you round his head like an old hat! He was at the fire in Beverly Square last night.”

      This speech was delivered with such vehemence, contained so many objectionable sentiments, and involved such a dreadful supposition in regard to the treatment of Miss Tippet’s person, that the worthy lady was shocked beyond all expression. The concluding sentence, however, diverted her thoughts.

      “Ah! was he indeed at that sad fire, and did he help to put it out?”

      “Sure, an’ he did more than that,” exclaimed Matty, regarding the boy with sudden interest. “If that was yer brother that saved Miss Loo he’s a ra’al man—”

      “Saved Loo!” cried Miss Tippet; “was it your brother that saved Loo?”

      “Yes, ma’am, it was.”

      “Bless him; he is a noble fellow, and I have great pleasure in taking you by the hand for his sake.”

      Miss Tippet suited the action to the word, and seized Willie’s hand, which she squeezed warmly. Matty Merryon, with tears in her eyes, embraced him, and said that she only wished she had the chance of embracing his brother, too. Then they all said he must stay to lunch, as it was about lunchtime, and Miss Tippet added that he deserved to have been born in a higher position in life—at least his brother did, which was the same thing, for he was a true what’s-’is-name, who ought to be crowned with thingumyjigs.

      Emma, who had latterly been looking at Willie with deepening respect, immediately crowned him with laurels on the slate, and then Matty rushed away for the lunch-tray—rejoicing in the fire, that had sent her back so soon to the old mistress whom she never wanted to leave; that had afforded scope for the display of such heroism, and had brought about altogether such an agreeable state of unwonted excitation.

      Just as the party were on the point of sitting down to luncheon, the street-door knocker was applied to the door with an extremely firm touch.

      “Miss Deemas!” exclaimed Miss Tippet. “Oh! I’m so glad. Rush, Matty.”

      Matty rushed, and immediately there was a sound on the wooden passage as of a gentleman with heavy boots. A moment later, and Matty ushered in a very tall, broad-shouldered, strapping lady; if we may venture to use that expression in reference to one of the fair sex.

      Miss Deemas was a sort of human eagle. She had an eagle eye, an aquiline nose, an eagle flounce, and an eagle heart. Going up to Miss Tippet, she put a hand on each of her shoulders, and stooping down, pecked her, so to speak, on each cheek.

      “How are you, my dear?” said Miss Deemas, not by any means tenderly; but much in the tone in which one would expect to have one’s money or one’s life demanded.

      “Quite well, dear Julia, and so glad to see you. It is so good of you to take me by surprise this way; just at lunch-time, too. Another plate and knife, Matty. This is a little boy—a friend—not exactly a friend, but a—a thingumy, you know.”

      “No, I don’t know, Emelina, what is the precise ‘thingumy’ you refer to this time,” said the uncompromising and matter-of-fact Miss Deemas.

      “You’re so particular, dear Julia,” replied Miss Tippet with a little sigh; “a what’s-’is-n–, a protégé, you know.”

      “Indeed,” said Miss Deemas, regarding Willie with a severe frown, as if in her estimation all protégés were necessarily villains.

      “Yes, dear Julia, and, would you believe it, that this boy’s brother-in-law—”

      “Brother, ma’am,” interrupted Willie.

      “Yes, brother, actually saved my darling’s life last night, at the—the thing in Beverly Square.”

      “What ‘darling’s life,’ and what ‘thing’ in Beverly Square?” demanded Miss Deemas.

      “What! have you not heard of the fire last night in Beverly Square—my relative, James Auberly—living there with his family—all burnt to ashes—and my sweet Loo, too? A what’s-’is-name was brought, and a brave fireman went up it, through fire and water and smoke. Young Auberly went up before him and fell—heat and suffocation—and saved her in his arms, and his name is Frank, and he’s this boy’s brother-in-law!”

      To this brief summary, given with much excitement, Miss Deemas listened with quiet composure, and then said with grim sarcasm, and very slowly:

      “Let me see; there was a fire in Beverly Square last night, and James Auberly, living there with his family, were all burned to ashes.”

      Miss Tippet here interrupted with, “No, no;” but her stern friend imposing silence, with an eagle look, continued:

      “All burned to ashes, and also your sweet Loo. A ‘what’s-his-name’ having been brought, a brave fireman goes up it, and apparently never comes down again (burned to ashes also, I fancy); but young Auberly, who went up before him, and fell—heat and suffocation being the result—saved some one named ‘her’ in his arms; his name being Frank (owing no doubt to his having been re-baptised, for ever since I knew him he has been named Frederick), and he is this boy’s brother-in-law!”

      By way of putting an extremely fine point on her sarcasm, Miss Deemas turned to Willie, with a very condescending air, and said:

      “Pray, when did your sister marry Mr Frederick Auberly?”

      Willie,

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