"Yes," he said in a hoarse whisper, "he must be a devil, or he couldn't have known about Uncle Rounce." VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SIX. THE FLY ON THE WALL. "Well, mother, it might have been worse," said Richard, sitting down to his humble dinner about a week later. "Here, Jessie, pull my ears." Jessie, who looked very pale and red-eyed, as if with weeping, went behind her father's chair, took hold of his ears playfully, and pulled them, while he drew one hand before his face. "Will that do, dear?" she said, drawing his head back so that she could kiss his puzzled forehead. "Beautiful, my darling! Nothing like it. Tightens the skin, and takes out all the wrinkles. Keeps you young-looking, and makes your wife fond of you. Don't it, mother?" Mrs Shingle sighed, but looked at him affectionately, as she placed a spoon in the potatoes. "That's right," said Dick. "Smiles is human sunshine, and don't cost anything. You both look as bright again to-day. Hallo! old fellow," he continued, thrusting a spoon into some hash. "Now, it won't do, you know. You can't deceive me, in spite of your brown gravy. You're that half-shoulder of mutton we had on Sunday." "Yes, it is, Dick," said Mrs Shingle. "I knew it. Didn't he gape wide open as soon as I cut into him, and pretend that three people had been helped? Oh, I knew him again! Come, look bright, both of you: things might be worse. See how I'm trying to shine! Come on: the best side of the looking-glass, both of you. The glue and wood will do for old Max." In spite of his endeavours, the dinner was a sorry repast, the only one who enjoyed it being the boy; and as soon as it was cleared away, Dick and the others resumed their work. "Do you really mean to go, Dick?" said his wife at last, after making three or four efforts to speak. "Yes, certain!" he said; and he glanced at Jessie, who was just then looking at him, when both lowered their eyes directly. "But how can we leave without paying?" Mrs Shingle ventured to say at last. "Sell the furniture," said Dick bitterly. "There--it's no use, mother, I won't humble myself to him no more. I've as good as took a couple of rooms off St John Street, and go we will--for many reasons," he added. "But, Dick dear--" "Hold your tongue, mother!" he cried sternly. "I'm going to turn over a new leaf. Other folks make money; I'm going to make some now--somehow. But I don't know how," he added to himself. "Now, you sir, get on-- we've got to make a fortune yet," he continued, hammering away; while Jessie's sewing machine clicked musically, and her little white-stockinged feet seemed to twinkle as they played up and down. Mrs Shingle looked very much in trouble, for every now and then she wiped a furtive tear from her eye. "How much money did you bring from the warehouse this morning, my gal?" said Dick suddenly, as he looked up from playing cat's-cradle over a boot.