The servant, who attended to these rooms, possessed a character, marked by some peculiarities that were rather amusing. She was over fifty years of age; and carried about the house a face that most people would have considered unpleasant. I did not. I only believed that Mrs Nagger--such was her name--might have experienced several disappointments in her life; and that the expression, caused by the latest and last of them, had become so indelibly stamped upon her features, as not to be removed by any hope of future happiness. Like a good many of her sex, Mrs Nagger's tongue was seldom at rest, though the words she uttered were but few, and generally limited to the exclamatory phrase, "More's the pity!" followed by the confession, "That's all I can say." I had, sometimes, cause to complain of the coffee, which the old housekeeper used to set before me--fancying it inferior to any, I had met elsewhere. "Mrs Nagger," I would say--laying an emphasis on the Mrs, of which she seemed no little vain--"I do not think this is coffee at all. What do you suppose it to be?" "Indeed I don't know, sir; and more's the pity!" "And this milk," I would continue, "I fancy it must have been taken from an iron-tailed cow." "Yes, sir; and more's the pity! That's all I can say." I soon learnt that the old creature was quite right in her simple confession. "More's the pity" was about all she could say; and I was not sorry that it was so. One day I was honoured by a visit from Cannon, who, being some years older than myself, and having rather an elevated opinion of his own wisdom, volunteered to offer me a little advice. "Stone," said he, "why don't you settle down, and live happily like your brother? If I had your opportunity of doing so, I wouldn't put up with the miserable life I am leading, a week longer." "What opportunity do you speak of?" "Why that of marrying Jessie H--. Do not think me meddlesome, or impertinent. I take it for granted that you and I are sufficiently acquainted for me to take the liberty I am doing. The girl likes you; I know it, and it is a deuced shame to see a fine girl like her thrown away on such a puppy as Vane. Why don't you save her? She is everything a man could wish for--although she is a little different from most of the young ladies of London. In my opinion, she's all the better for that." In thus addressing me, Cannon acted in a more ungentlemanly manner than I had ever known him to do, for he was not a man to intrude advice upon his friends--especially on matters of so serious a nature, as the one he had introduced. Believing him to have some friendship for myself, more for the H-- family, and a great antipathy to Vane, I listened to him without feeling offended. "I am not insensible to the attractions of Miss H--," said I, "but the happiness, you speak of, can never be mine."