'He is very short with me sometimes, and then I feel that he is meditating, "This blockhead is my master! A fellow who couldn't write a tragedy on pain of death, and who will never have one dedicated to him with the most complimentary congratulations on the high position he has taken in the eyes of posterity!" Very trying, very trying.

However, in giving him directions, I reflect beforehand: "Perhaps he may not like this," or "He might take it ill if I asked that;" and so we get on very well.

Indeed, better than I could have expected.' 'Is the tragedy named, sir ?' asked Rosa.
'Strictly between ourselves,' answered Mr.Grewgious, 'it has a dreadfully appropriate name.

It is called The Thorn of Anxiety.

But Mr.
Bazzard hopes--and I hope--that it will come out at last.' It was not hard to divine that Mr.Grewgious had related the Bazzard history thus fully, at least quite as much for the recreation of his ward's mind from the subject that had driven her there, as for the gratification of his own tendency to be social and communicative.
'And now, my dear,' he said at this point, 'if you are not too tired to tell me more of what passed to-day--but only if you feel quite able--I should be glad to hear it.