“Thank you. And you?” said Jarber. “I am as well as an old woman can expect to be.” Jarber was beginning: “Say, not old, Sophon—” but I looked at the candlestick, and he left off; pretending not to have said anything. “I am infirm, of course,” I said, “and so are you. Let us both be thankful it’s no worse.” “Is it possible that you look worried?” said Jarber. “It is very possible. I have no doubt it is the fact.” “And what has worried my Soph-, soft-hearted friend,” said Jarber. “Something not easy, I suppose, to comprehend. I am worried to death by a House to Let, over the way.” Jarber went with his little tip-toe step to the window-curtains, peeped out, and looked round at me. “Yes,” said I, in answer: “that house.” After peeping out again, Jarber came back to his chair with a tender air, and asked: “How does it worry you, S-arah?” “It is a mystery to me,” said I. “Of course every house _is_ a mystery, more or less; but, something that I don’t care to mention” (for truly the Eye was so slight a thing to mention that I was more than half ashamed of it), “has made that House so mysterious to me, and has so fixed it in my mind, that I have had no peace for a month. I foresee that I shall have no peace, either, until Trottle comes to me, next Monday.” I might have mentioned before, that there is a lone-standing jealousy between Trottle and Jarber; and that there is never any love lost between those two. “_Trottle_,” petulantly repeated Jarber, with a little flourish of his cane; “how is _Trottle_ to restore the lost peace of Sarah?” “He will exert himself to find out something about the House. I have fallen into that state about it, that I really must discover by some means or other, good or bad, fair or foul, how and why it is that that House remains To Let.” “And why Trottle? Why not,” putting his little hat to his heart; “why not, Jarber?” “To tell you the truth, I have never thought of Jarber in the matter. And now I do think of Jarber, through your having the kindness to suggest him—for which I am really and truly obliged to you—I don’t think he could do it.” “Sarah!” “I think it would be too much for you, Jarber.” “Sarah!” “There would be coming and going, and fetching and carrying, Jarber, and you might catch cold.” “Sarah! What can be done by Trottle, can be done by me. I am on terms of acquaintance with every person of responsibility in this parish. I am intimate at the Circulating Library. I converse daily with the Assessed Taxes. I lodge with the Water Rate. I know the Medical Man. I lounge habitually at the House Agent’s. I dine with the Churchwardens. I move to the Guardians. Trottle! A person in the sphere of a domestic, and totally unknown to society!”