He was a very stately-looking man, and strikingly dignified as he walked upstairs to his bedroom--slowly and deliberately, as though he were marching at his own funeral to the tune of something even deader than the "Dead March in Saul." It is almost a violation of propriety to _think_ of Mr Auberly doing such a very undignified thing as "going to bed!" Yet truth requires us to tell that he did it; that he undressed himself as other mortals do; that he clothed himself in the wonted ghostly garment; and that, when his head was last seen--in the act of closing the curtains around him-- there was a conical white cap on it, tied with a string below the chin, and ornamented on the top with a little tassel, which waggled as though it were bidding a triumphant and final adieu to human dignity! Half an hour later, Mrs Rose, the housekeeper, a matronly, good-looking woman, with very red cheeks, was busy in the study explaining to Matty Merryon her duties. She had already shown her all over the house, and was now at the concluding lesson. "Look here now, Merryon," began the housekeeper. "Oh, please don't call me Merryon--I ain't used to it. Call me Matty, _do_ now!" "Very well, Matty," continued Mrs Rose, with a smile, "I've no objection; you Irish are a strange race! Now, look here. This is master's study, and mind, he's very partikler, dreadful partikler." She paused and looked at her pupil, as if desirous of impressing this point deeply on her memory. "He don't like his papers or books touched; not even dusted! So you'll be careful not to dust 'em, nor to touch 'em even so much as with your little finger, for he likes to find 'em in the mornin' just as he left 'em at night." "Yes, Mrs Rose," said Matty, who was evidently giving up her whole soul to the instruction that was being imparted. "Now," continued the housekeeper, "the arranging of this room will be your last piece of work at night. You'll just come in, rake out the grate, carry off the ashes, lay the noo fire, put the matches handy on the chimney-piece, look round to see that all's right, and then turn off the gas. The master is a early riser, and lights the fire his-self of a mornin'." "Yes, 'm," said Matty, with a courtesy. "Now, go and do it," said Mrs Rose, "that I may see you understand it. Begin with the grate an' the ashes." Matty, who was in truth an experienced maid-of-all-work, began with alacrity to discharge the duties of her new station. She carried off the ashes, and returned with the materials for next day's fire in a shovel. Here she gave a slight indication of her so-called carelessness (awkwardness would have been more appropriate) by letting two or three pieces of stick and a bit of coal fall on the carpet, in her passage across the room. "Be careful, Matty," said Mrs Rose gently. "It's all owin' to haste. Take your time, an' you won't do such things."