“The whole thing is. It is so absurd to be an engaged orphan and it is so absurd to have the girls and the servants scuttling about after one, like mice in the wainscot; and it is so absurd to be called upon!” 

 The apparition appears to have a thumb in the corner of its mouth while making this complaint. 

 “You give me an affectionate reception, Pussy, I must say.” 

 “Well, I will in a minute, Eddy, but I can’t just yet. How are you?” (very shortly.) 

 “I am unable to reply that I am much the better for seeing you, Pussy, inasmuch as I see nothing of you.” 

 This second remonstrance brings a dark, bright, pouting eye out from a corner of the apron; but it swiftly becomes invisible again, as the apparition exclaims: “O good gracious! you have had half your hair cut off!” 

 “I should have done better to have had my head cut off, I think,” says Edwin, rumpling the hair in question, with a fierce glance at the looking-glass, and giving an impatient stamp. “Shall I go?” 

 “No; you needn’t go just yet, Eddy. The girls would all be asking questions why you went.” 

 “Once for all, Rosa, will you uncover that ridiculous little head of yours and give me a welcome?” 

 The apron is pulled off the childish head, as its wearer replies: “You’re very welcome, Eddy. There! I’m sure that’s nice. Shake hands. No, I can’t kiss you, because I’ve got an acidulated drop in my mouth.” 

 “Are you at all glad to see me, Pussy?” 

 “O, yes, I’m dreadfully glad.—Go and sit down.—Miss Twinkleton.” 

 It is the custom of that excellent lady when these visits occur, to appear every three minutes, either in her own person or in that of Mrs. Tisher, and lay an offering on the shrine of Propriety by affecting to look for some desiderated article. On the present occasion Miss Twinkleton, gracefully gliding in and out, says in passing: “How do you do, Mr. Drood? Very glad indeed to have the pleasure. Pray excuse me. Tweezers. Thank you!” 

 “I got the gloves last evening, Eddy, and I like them very much. They are beauties.” 

 “Well, that’s something,” the affianced replies, half grumbling. “The 

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