Mrs. Sandboys was perhaps more fidgety than ever over the toilet of herself and Cursty. She _would_ insist upon arranging his neckcloth, and tying his waistcoat in for him; nor did she spare any pains to set herself off to the best possible advantage. And when they were all ready, they assembled in the parlour to receive the instructions of the Major as to the precautions they should take against losing one another in the monster building. The old soldier was in the course of impressing upon the family the necessity of keeping together, and arranging to meet at the glass fountain in the transept at a stated hour, in case they should get parted from one another in the crowd—or else, as he said jokingly, they might be all the day hunting after each other through the several countries of the globe—first bobbing into China, and then scampering through Russia, and after that scouring round America, while perhaps the missing one was wandering quietly among the Channel Islands, or taking a five minutes’ lounge through India; and he had scarcely completed his many injunctions as to how they were always to keep an eye upon “the party” who carried the sandwiches—for they must remember that he was the most important member of the whole body, and that if he were lost, their dinner was lost too—when— There was a faint tap at the parlour door, and the moment after Mrs. Fokesell, popping her head into the room, requested to speak with Mr. Sandboys. A cold shiver passed through Cursty’s frame at the mysterious nature of the summons. After so many slips ’twixt the (crystal) cup and his lip, he could not help having a presentiment that something dreadful was about to happen; and as a means of acquiring additional courage to bear up against the calamity, whatever it might be, he begged Mrs. Fokesell to step in and communicate what she had to say in the presence of the company. The landlady coughed hesitatingly, and nodded, and beckoned to Mr. Sandboys, so as to indicate to him, in the most expressive pantomime she was mistress of, that she wished to speak with him alone. Cursty, who was now more alarmed than ever, hurried over to Mrs. Sandboys, who had been intently watching the landlady’s gestures, and requested her to see what it was the woman wanted. Aggy stepped across to the door, and in a whisper begged to be made acquainted with the nature of Mrs. Fokesell’s business; but the landlady still hesitated, saying, “in a nasty insinuating way, that Mrs. Sandboys didn’t half like,” that “she had rayther tell what she had to tell to the gentleman hisself.” When Mrs, Sandboys, whose curiosity was now piqued almost to a painful degree, found that it was useless trying to get out of the woman the purport of the tidings she had to communicate, she returned and intimated as much to her husband, who, though pretending to be deep in conversation with the Major, had been listening the while to what was passing at the door.