“No, never,” cried Farrer, in a stronger voice than Jane thought he could now exert. “You will see Arkwright in the next world before you see his like in this. I knew Arkwright. And as for the debt,—how is that ever to be paid? The country is ruined, and God knows what will become of my little savings!” And the old man wept as if he had already lost his all. It was always a melancholy fact to him that Arkwright, whom he had been wont to consider the happiest of men, had been obliged to go away from his wealth;—to die like other men. Peek attempted to comfort him, regardless of the frowning looks of Dr. Say, and of Jane’s hints to hold his tongue. “Why, all that requires to be taken care of will go to Jane, I suppose, though some of your things would be more suitable to my wife than to any single woman. That is a nice mattress; and indeed the bedding altogether is just what would suit our brown chamber, as I was saying to my wife. But I suppose Jane is to have all that sort of thing?” “Mr. Peek, you will either go away or leave off talking in that manner,” said Jane, moving away the empty tankard from which he had drunk his morning ale. “Mr. Farrer will enjoy many a good night in that very bed, when we have subdued the little obstruction that affects the breathing,” observed Dr. Say, soothingly. “We all know better than that,” said Peek, with an ostentatious sigh. “It is hard to leave what it costs such a world of pains to get. I’ve heard you say, Mr. Farrer, how proud you were when you got a watch, as a young man. That’s it, I suppose, over the chimney-piece; and a deal of silver there must be in it, from the weight. I suppose this falls to Jane too? It will go on, tick, tick, just the same as ever.” Mr. Farrer forgot his pain while he watched Peek’s method of handling the old watch, and followed his speculations about the disposal of his property. “And do you think that singing-bird will miss you?” asked Peek, nodding to the siskin in its cage. “I have heard of birds that have pined, as they say dogs do, from the day of their master’s death. But my children would soon teach your Teddy a merry ditty, and cure him of moping.” “Jane, don’t let any body but Morgan move that bird out of the house: do you hear?” said Farrer. “It is nobody’s bird but your’s, father. Nobody shall touch it.” And Jane set Teddy singing, in hopes of stopping Peek’s speculations. “And there’s the old punch-bowl,” continued the son-in-law, as soon as there was again silence. “That will be yours of course, Jane?” “O, our good friend will make punch many a time yet out of that bowl, when we shall have set up his appetite,” declared Dr. Say. “No, no, Doctor. He will never make punch again in this world.” There was a pause after this positive declaration, which was broken by Farrer saying to his daughter, “You don’t say anything against it. You don’t think you had rather not have the things.”