The door opened, and Mr.
Vickers, with a slice of bread arrested half-way to his mouth, sat gazing in astonishment at Charles Vickers, clad for the first time in his life in new raiment from top to toe.

Ere he could voice inquiries, an avalanche of squeaks descended the stairs, and the rest of the children, all smartly clad, with Selina bringing up the rear, burst into the room.
"What is it ?" demanded Mr.Vickers, in a voice husky with astonishment; "a bean-feast ?" Miss Vickers, who was doing up a glove which possessed more buttons than his own waistcoat, looked up and eyed him calmly.

"New clothes--and not before they wanted'em," she replied, tartly.
"New clothes ?" repeated her father, in a scandalized voice.

"Where'd they get'em ?" "Shop," said his daughter, briefly.
Mr.Vickers rose and, approaching his offspring, inspected them with the same interest that he would have bestowed upon a wax-works.

A certain stiffness of pose combined with the glassy stare which met his gaze helped to favour the illusion.
"For once in their lives they're respectable," said Selina, regarding them with moist eyes.