Mrs Pulchop said he had been a handsome man, but according to the portrait she had of him he resembled a bull-dog more than anything else in nature. The young Pulchops, of which there were two, both of the female sex, took after their father in appearance and their mother in temperament, and from the time they could talk and crawl knew as much about drops, poultices, bandages, and draughts as many a hospital nurse of mature age. One day Vandeloup sent a telegram to Kitty saying he would be home to dinner, and as he always required something extra in the way of cooking, Kitty went to interview Mrs Pulchop on the subject. She found that lady wrapped up in a heavy shawl, turning herself into a tea-kettle by drinking hot water, the idea being, as she assured Kitty, to rouse up her liver. Miss Topsy Pulchop was tying a bandage round her face, as she felt a toothache coming on, while Miss Anna Pulchop was unfortunately quite well, and her occupation being gone, was seated disconsolately at the window trying to imagine she felt pains in her back. ‘Ah!’ groaned Mrs Pulchop, in a squeaky voice, sipping her hot water; ‘you don’t know, my dear, what it is to be aworrited by your liver--tortures and inquisitions ain’t in it, my love.’ Kitty said she was very sorry, and asked her if nothing would relieve her sufferings, but Mrs Pulchop shook her head triumphantly. ‘My sweet young thing,’ said the patient, with great gusto, ‘I’ve tried everything under the sun to make it right, but they ain’t no good; it’s always expanding and a contracting of itself unbeknown to me, and throwing the bile into the stomach, which ain’t its proper place.’ ‘It does sound rather nasty,’ assented Kitty; ‘and Topsy seems to be ill, too.’ ‘Toothache,’ growled Topsy, who had a deep, bass voice, and being modelled on the canine lines of her late lamented father, the growl suited her admirably. ‘I had two out last week, and now this one’s started.’ ‘Try a roasted fig, Topsy dear,’ suggested her mother, who, now, having finished her hot water, looked longingly at the kettle for more. ‘Toothache,’ growled Topsy, in reply, ‘not gumboil;’ the remedy suggested by Mrs Pulchop being for the latter of these ills. ‘You are quite well, at any rate,’ said Kitty to Anna, cheerfully. Anna, however, declined to be considered in good health. ‘I fancy my back is going to ache,’ she said, darkly placing her hand in the small of it. ‘I’ll have to put a linseed poultice on it tonight, to draw the cold out.’ Then she groaned dismally, and her mother and sister, hearing the familiar sound, also groaned, so there was quite a chorus, and Kitty felt inclined to groan also, out of sympathy. ‘M. Vandeloup is coming to dinner tonight,’ she said, timidly, to Mrs Pulchop.