That evening Mrs. Brown's rich mellow snore commenced later than usual--for she had been loud and long in the praise of their new neighbours. Mr. Brown making entry against December 22nd, _Saturday_.--That Albert was let:--whilst, the Waits were playing the "Phantom Dancers," and Captain de Camp busy, there, screwing his empty trunk to the floor, that it might appear heavy, and full of valuables; and whilst, between the villas in the rear, there might be seen a glimmering candle, and by that light be found--one not unknown to Brown--a poor little musician, in a little second-floor room, containing a little organ much too large for it, and a litter of dirty soft papers,--who is not a little perplexed at a note, from Mrs. Brown, dispensing with his services:--he, the poor little music-master, more amiable than handsome, less symmetrical than serviceable;--who had, in less favoured times, contracted friendship, and to teach the Misses Brown music at thirty shillings per quarter--who had gotten so familiar as to love--had dared to offer that person Nature had deformed, with that mind Nature had adorned, to Miss Jemima Brown. There was a time when his anecdotes had been prized, and his long, delicate, white fingers kept playing to perpetual dancers; and that fine voice, Nature had bestowed in lieu of symmetry, sang the merriest and most sentimental songs for love:--the retrospect is too much for poor Spohf--so he seeks refuge in his organ, much to the annoyance of a little tailor in the attic, who has no soul in him--save the sole he had for supper. [Illustration] Sunday.--The perpetual bell of St. Stiff the Martyr is calling to service, as it is wont to do at all times and hours--for mysterious purposes but little known:--it seems as if the bell disliked its little wooden cottage, on the unfinished spire; or was inspired, or in a towering passion to live in a tower, or saw no fun in waiting for funds; and so, continually pealed an appeal to the public:--however, it was a puny, little, curious bell, with a tongue of its own, now clacking for a charity sermon; and, curiously, Mr. Brown thinks a charity sermon always edifies him with the headache, and is doubtful about going, as they make him a reluctant giver--for mere vain show; but he, curiously, wonders where the De Camps go; and, curiously, Victoria and Albert meet at the gate; and, curiously, the family pue, at St. Stiff's, seems capable of accommodating them.