“Women are so fond of sa-saving,” cried Scroope, “You'll always be safe when you c-c-cut down the estimates.” “Attend to that, Martha,” remarked Mrs. Ricketts. “Find out the price of ch-chickens, and always buy them a kreutzer cheaper than she has done.” “There is nothing gives such an ascendency in a house as showing that you can maintain the establishment for fourpence less per quarter,” said Zoe, gravely. “I have known connubial happiness, that has stood the test of temper and illness for years, wrecked on the small rock of a cook's bill. Like all wasteful men, you may be sure that this Dalton has many miserly habits. Learn these, and indulge them. There was that poor Marquis of Binchley, that never dined without a hundred wax candles in the room, left all his fortune to a nephew he once found collecting the sealing-wax from old letters and making it up for fresh use. Reflect upon this, Martha; and always bear in mind that the vices of mankind are comparatively uninstructive. It is their foibles, their small weaknesses, that teach everything.” “When Ha-Ha-Haggerstone comes, and finds no room for him, you 'll ha-ha-have the devil to pay.” “He shall take it out in dinners, Scroope; and what between drinking Dalton's wine with him, and abusing him behind his back, you 'll see he 'll be perfectly happy.” “How long do you purpose to st-stay here, sister?” asked Scroope. “Ask the butterfly how long the rose and the hyacinth will bloom,” said Mrs. Ricketts, pensively; for, by dint of smiling at herself in the looking-glass, she had come round to that mock poetical vein which ran through her strange incongruous nature. “And now good-night, dears,” sighed she. “These are sweet moments, but they are paid for at a price. Exhausted energies will have repose.” She held out her hand to Martha, who kissed it respectfully, and then waived a graceful adieu to Purvis, as he retired. “Sister Zoe has a head for everything,” muttered Purvis to Martha. “There's nothing she's not up to.” “She's very clever indeed!” sighed Martha. “And this is n't the worst h-hit she has ever made. It was d-deucedly well done to get in here.” Either Martha did n't concur in the sentiment, or Scroope's satisfaction did not need any backing, for she made no reply. “They 've given me a capital room; I fa-fancy Dalton's own, for I found a heap of old bills and letters in a table-drawer, and something like a--like a----like a writ”--here he laughed till the tears came at the drollery of the thought,--“in the pocket of his dressing-gown.”