Mrs. Preedy was re-assured. The frightful impressions produced by her dream died away, and the instincts of the professional landlady asserted themselves. "My young man lodger has come to pay his rent," was her first thought, and a gracious and stereotyped smile appeared on her lips. The sweet illusion swiftly vanished, and her second thought was, "He is drunk." This, also, did not hold its ground, and Mrs. Preedy then practically summed up the case: "He has come to beg--a candle, a piece of bread, a lump of soap--somethink he is in want of, and ain't got money to pay for. And his excuse is that he is a foringer, or that all the shops are shut. I don't believe he's got a penny in his pocket. You don't deceive me, young man; I wasn't born yesterday!" Mrs. Preedy glanced towards the clock, and her glance was arrested on its way by the weather indicator, with the old wooden farmer in full view. Grotesque and improbable as were the fancies in which he had played a tragic part, Mrs. Preedy could not resist the temptation of ascertaining with her own eyes whether the young wooden woman, whom she dreamt he had murdered, was in existence; and she rose and pushed the old farmer into his bower. Out sailed the young woman, with her vacant face and silly leer, as natural as life, and an impetus having been given to the machinery, she and her male companion who had lived under the same roof for years, and yet were absolute strangers to each other (a striking illustration of English manners), swung in and out, in and out, predicting fair weather foul weather, fair weather foul weather, with the most reckless indifference of consequences. In truth, without reference to the mendacious prophets, the weather gave every indication of being presently very foul indeed. Thunder was in the air; the wind was sobbing in the Square, and a few heavy drops of rain had fallen with thuds upon roof and pavement. The hands of the clock pointed to twelve. "A nice time," thought Mrs. Preedy, "to come creeping downstairs into my kitchen! I never did like them foringers! But I'd give anything to get my 'ouse full--whether the lodgers paid or not for a week or two. Did the young man expect to find me out, or asleep? Is there anything goin' on atween 'im and Becky?"