"See how exquisitely that hand is painted," continued Mr. Longcluse, pursuing his criticism, "and the art with which the lights are managed. It is a wonderful picture. It makes one positively angry to see it in that state, and anywhere but in the most conspicuous and honourable place. If I owned that picture, I should never be tired showing it. I should have it where everyone who came into my house should see it; and I should watch every crack and blur on its surface, as I should the symptoms of a dying child, or the looks of the mistress of my heart. Now just look at this. Where is he? Oh!" "I beg your pardon, a thousand times, but I find my old friend Martha feels a little faint and ill," said Richard. "Dear me! I hope she's better," said Mr. Longcluse, approaching with solicitude. "Can I be of any use? Shall I touch the bell?" "I'm better, Sir, I thank you; I'm much better," said the old woman. "It won't signify nothing, only--" She was looking hard again at Mr. Longcluse, who now seemed perfectly at his ease, and showed in his countenance nothing but the commiseration befitting the occasion. "A sort of a weakness--a fright like--and I can't think, quite, what came over me." "Don't you think a glass of wine might do her good?" asked Mr. Longcluse. "Thanks, Sir, I don't drink it. Oh, lighten our darkness, we beseech thee! Good Lord, a' mercy on us! I take them drops, hartshorn and valerian, on a little water, when I feel nervous like. I don't know when I was took wi' t' creepins before." "You look better," said Richard. "I'm quite right again, Sir," she said, with a sigh. She had taken her "drops," and seemed restored. "Hadn't you better have one of the maids with you? I'm going now; I'll send some one," he said. "You must get all right, Martha. It pains me to see you ill. You're a very old friend, remember. You must be all right again; and, if you like, we'll have the doctor out, from town." He said this, holding her thin old hand very kindly, for he was by no means without good-nature. So sending the promised attendant, he and Longcluse proceeded to the billiard-room, where, having got the lamps lighted, they began to enjoy their smoke. Each, I fancy, was thinking of the little incident in the housekeeper's room. There was a long silence. "Poor old Tansey! She looked awfully ill," said Richard Arden at last. "By Jove! she did. Is that her name? She rather frightened me," said Mr. Longcluse. "I thought we had stumbled on a mad woman--she stared so. Has she ever had any kind of fit, poor thing?" "No. She grumbles a good deal, but I really think she's a healthy old woman enough. She says she was frightened." "We came in too suddenly, perhaps?" "No, that wasn't it, for I knocked first," said Arden. "Ah, yes, so you did. I only know she frightened me. I really thought she was out of her mind, and that she was going to stick me with a knife, perhaps," said Mr. Longcluse, with a little laugh and a shrug.