Edward was quite right; for Mrs. Yapp, when she found that dear mother only turned her nose up at her filthy medicines, tried to see how disagreeable she could make herself to my respected parent. And I declare, on the very first night, they both went quarrelling up stairs to bed, where dear mother--who, being a stout woman, has always accustomed herself to sleep cool--would insist upon having two of the blankets, and all the cloaks, taken off the bed, for she protested that, what with the fire, and the shawl pinned before the window, there wasn’t a breath of air stirring in the room, saying, that, for her part, she should like to have the window open. This, that disagreeable old Mrs. Yapp declared would be certain death to her, and she shouldn’t allow anything of the kind; and scarcely had poor dear mother taken the blankets off the bed, than Mrs. Yapp rushed up, and began putting them on again; so there they both stood for a good hour at least, one taking them off as fast as the other put them on, until they got tired, and agreed that if Mrs. Yapp would forego making up the fire for the night, and consent to waive the warming-pan, why, my dear, good, obliging mother would, in her turn, allow the coddling old thing to have as many blankets, and gowns, and cloaks on her side as she liked. But no sooner had they got into the small bed than they both began growling away, and each declaring that the other had got more than her proper share of it, so that mother told me that neither of them got a wink of sleep all night. And really, when they came down to breakfast the next morning, they wouldn’t open their mouths to each other--much to that wicked Edward’s delight, who kept rubbing his hands, and pressing mother to try a couple of tea-spoonfuls of Epsom salts, as Mrs. Yapp did in her tea, and asking the old she-quack whether she did not think Mrs. B--ff--n’s liver was out of order, and what she would recommend for her under the circumstances. That evening, whilst we were at dinner, a parcel came, with a letter for me, which, on opening, proved to be from those dear, sweet girls, the two Misses B--yl--s’s, saying “they would feel much obliged if I would present the accompanying article to one who would call for it in a day or two.” On undoing the parcel, I declare if it wasn’t a beautiful white satin pincushion, with a superb lace border, while on it was printed in pins-- +-------------------+ | WELCOME | | | | LITTLE STRANGER. | +-------------------+ This, of course, was fine nuts to crack for Mr. Edward; who must go cutting his stupid jokes upon a subject which as I told him at the time, I thought would be much better left alone. But there was no stopping him; and he wanted to send out for a pennyworth of baby-pins, and put an _s_ to the stranger--saying that the Misses B--yl--s’s had sent it to me only half-finished.