I could not see the doorway between the two rooms; but the company announced his appearance with a shout, and several guests pushing back their chairs and rising to welcome him, in the same instant were disclosed to me, first, the pale face of the Rev.

Mr.Whitmore under a sporting print by the wall opposite, and next, reclining in the bed, the most extraordinary figure of a woman.
So much of her as appeared above the bedclothes was arrayed in an orange-coloured dressing-gown and a night-cap the frills of which towered over a face remarkable in many ways, but chiefly for its broad masculine forehead and the firm outline of its jaw and chin.
Indeed, I could hardly believe that the face belonged to a woman.
A slight darkening of the upper lip even suggested a moustache, but on a second look I set this down to the shadow of the bed-canopy.
A round table stood at her elbow, with a bottle and plate upon it: and in one hand she lifted a rummer to Mr.Rogers's health, crooking back the spoon in it with her forefinger as she drank, that it might not incommode her aquiline nose.
"Good health, Jack, and sit you down!" she hailed him, her voice ringing above the others like a bell.

"Tripe and onions it is, and Plymouth gin--the usual fare: and while you're helping yourself, tell me--do I owe you ten pounds or no ?" "That depends," Mr.Rogers answered, searching about for a clean plate and seating himself amid the hush of the company.

"All the horses back ?" "Five of 'em.

They came in together, nigh on an hour ago, and not a tub between 'em.