I used to go and see him and take him tobacco, and he promised me that I should have it when he had done with it." "Done with it ?" repeated the girl, in a startled voice.

"Did--did he get another one, then ?" [Illustration: 'Done with it ?' repeated the girl, in a startled voice.] Mr.Tredgold, roused from the pleasurable reminiscences of a collector, remembered himself suddenly.

"Oh, yes, he got another one," he said, soothingly.
"Is--is he bedridden now ?" inquired the girl.
"I haven't seen him for some time," said Mr.Tredgold, truthfully.

"He gave up smoking and--and then I didn't go to see him, you know." "He's dead," said Miss Drewitt, shivering.

"He died in---- Oh, you are horrible!" "That carving--" began Mr.Tredgold.
"Don't talk about it, please," said the indignant Miss Drewitt.