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.
Then after arranging apart the buckle, the letter, and the tin box, he inquired-- "Was it like this when the man gave it to you ?" "No, the letter was separate.