Long attendance at
death-beds seemed to have given that good woman a perennial youth,
and certainly that day she seemed to have lost the years which I had
gained. Uncle Loveday made some faint display of heartiness; but it
was the most transparent feigning. He covered his defection by
pressing huge helpings upon me, so that my plate was bidding fair to
become a new Tower of Babel, when Mrs. Busvargus interposed and swept
the meal away; after which she disappeared into the back kitchen to
"wash up," and was no more seen; but we heard loud splashings at
intervals as if she had found a fountain, and were renewing her youth
in it.
Left to ourselves, we sat silent for a while, during which Uncle
Loveday refilled and lit his pipe and plunged again into thought,
with his eyes fixed on the rafters. Whether because his cogitations
led to something, or the tobacco had soothed him sufficiently, he
finally turned to me and asked--
"Have you got that packet?"
I produced it. He took his big red handkerchief from his pocket,
spread it on the table, and began slowly to undo the strap.
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