'Well, Master Chris,' said Josey West, as my mother and I entered the kitchen on the following night, here are the old times come over again. Now, children, bustle about! Florry, take mother's shawl and bonnet.' (They all called her mother.) 'Ah, you're looking about you, my dear; they're a queer lot of things; but they belong to a queer lot of people. The first night Chris came here he bumped his head. I heard some one tumbling about in the passage, and I called out to know who was there. "It's Me," Master Chris answered, as if all the world knew who Me was. "Come downstairs, Mr. Me," I called; and down he came head over heels, and fell sprawling right in the middle of the kitchen. Ah, that was a night! Do you remember the scene from _As You Like It_, Master Chris, and how mad you were when Jessie said, "Ask me what you will, I will grant it;" and Gus said, "Then love me, Rosalind?" You thought no one knew what was going on inside that head of yours, but I saw it all as clear as clear can be. I'm a witch, my dear. Did you ever hear'--(she was addressing my mother now)--'that I played an old witch for an entire season? I did, and played it well; I could show you the notices I got in the papers on the day they contained all about the pantomimes, but you would think me vain if I did. What a big little woman I thought myself, to be sure! I thought all the world must know me as I walked along, and I cocked up my head, I can tell you. How we do puff ourselves out, we frogs! That's what I asked you that night, Master Chris, the name of that thing in the fable that puffed itself out and came to grief; and I remember saying that of all the conceited creatures in this topsy-turvy world actors and actresses are the worst; though I think I know some who are almost as bad. But to come back about Gus, my dear. You've no cause to be jealous of him; he's engaged, my dear--engaged! Here's her picture--a pretty little thing, isn't she? But Gus never would make love to a girl unless she was pretty, and he was always a bit of a flirt. He'll have to settle down now; his ogling days are over; this little bit of a thing has got hold of him as tight as a fish. They'll all be getting married directly--all of them except me and Turk perhaps--and he's the one I want to see married most of all. There's Florry there--what are you listening to, Florry?--you should see how the men are beginning to stare at her! and that sets a girl thinking, you know. As for Chris, he must be blind; I only know if I was a young man--But there! I'll say no more, or you'll be calling me as bad a gossip as Mrs. Simpson. Perhaps some one else would like to say a word or two?'