Crooked lane," added Mrs. Bumby, but in a tone somewhat subdued, though still sharp and prompt.

"What's that to you, Betty? I shall do as I please with the shop and dwelling-house in Crooked lane."

"To be sure, Bumby, no doubt: but you always said that Crooked lane would do for me, you know."

"I presume no part of the property is in settlement?"

"The more the pity!" softly ejaculated Betty.

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Say another word," rejoined Bumby angrily, "I'll make no will at all!”

"And how would the policy go then, Mr. Sharpe?" retorted his wife.

"Before I had time to answer, Bumby took out his pocket-book, and slowly fixing his spectacles, read from it his instructions, to the effect that his widow was to enjoy the interest of the whole for her life, and then it was to go to their daughter.

"But here's where it is, Sharpe; Betty and I, you see, can't agree about the way to give it to our girl; that wild chap her husband,

may die or be hanged, and then the fool would marry again, and her children starve in the workhouse; so I should like to tie it all up for them, out of harm's way: but Betty is for giving it her outright!"

“And so I would, Bumby; if the girl don't marry again, she'll do worse.'

"Ay, ay: she takes sorely after her mother."

Mrs. Bumby knit her brows, pursed up her mouth, fanned herself with her pocket-handkerchief, and pendulated her body to and fro in her chair with that awful dignity, which in ladies of a certain age and considerable diameter, argues preparation for an explosion of no ordinary force. I hurried to the rescue of her unlucky spouse.

"I'll take a note of your instructions, Mr. Bumby, and-"

"You'll please to hear me too, I hope, Mr. Sharpe?"

"Certainly Ma'am: but lest I should forget-"

"You'll please not to forget the policy, Mr. Sharpe?"

"He's not likely while you are by, Betty." "I was speaking to Mr. Sharpe, Mr.

Bumby! I suppose I may do that, Mr. Bumby! Though Sally do take after me, Sir, I'm glad she takes after nobody worse! but 'tain't every child as knows her own father, Mr. Sharpe! no wonder Sall don't! Mr. Bumby, you're a wicked man, you are! you are a vile, wicked, old man! you don't deserve to have a young woman like me for a wife! me, who has been the kindest, fondest wife as ever loved a man old enough to be her father! you wicked wretch! you unkind, cruel monster!" and she blubbered outright.

"Well, well, Betty: I meant no harm; so say no more about it," cried Bumby; and ashamed of her, and more than half ashamed of himself too, he bustled up, pinched her chin by way of coaxing, and took her off, telling me he would call again in a day or two. I fancied that there was something more in this little conjugal quarrel than met the ear, and was rather curious to get at the bottom of it. Bumby's visit the next day explained it.

"Now, Mr. Sharpe; now I can speak comfortably when we're alone, you know. Betty's a good soul, but a little up now and then, like a bottle of soda-water, all flutter, splutter, and

fiz; but does one good after a glass too much: so let her have the policy, Sharpe, as she's set her heart on it; but she shan't have the rest, except on my terms. You understand, Sharpe? 'Twas all my eye about Sally: only we didn't like to tell you. The girl don't want the money till her mother dies-in good business -only two children-can do well enough without: but I know where the land lies: my young woman wants to marry again when I'm gone, Sharpe; and I've no mind she should: or she'll squander it all away while you wind up a watch. So tie it up close as you can; and when she dies, let her do what she will with it."

This was not unreasonable had Mrs. Bumby been somewhat younger, but I suspected it would prove very unpalatable to her; and as it was obviously impossible to keep the intended testamentary arrangements from her, I apprehended it might lead to a domestic discussion, not very favorable to the comfort of my venerable client. I ventured to throw out a hint of this.

"I think I know my own mind best, Sharpe! all you have to do is to put it in black and white."

"It is far from my wish to exceed my province, but considering Mrs. Bumby's advanced age, a second marriage seems not very probable."

"She is a young woman, Sharpe; a very young woman, and 'tis as much as I can do to keep her quiet; what she will do when I am gone, Heaven knows! marry you, perhaps! but you shan't clutch my money if you do."

I now perceived that jealousy was at the bottom of this extreme caution, and jealousy is impracticable at any age, so I gave way; merely observing that I felt certain that his wife's remarkable fondness for him (" fondness" is the only appeasing word on such occasions,) precluded all idea of a new engagement. This pleased him, and he left me in good humor. In the course of the same morning his wife repeated her visit.

"So my dear Bumby has been with you again, Mr. Sharpe?"

"He has, Ma'am."

"And what more has he told you?"

"You are to have the policy!"

"He is a dear good man when left to himself

-and about Sally?"

"He is quite resolute there."