“Ah, Mrs. Trapes,” sighed Ravenslee, leaning back in his chair and shaking a rueful head, “you touch on gloomy matters.  As the story books say, ’thereby hangs a tale’—­the dismal tale of a miserable wretch whose appetite was bad, whose sleep was worse, and whose temper was worst of all—­oh, a very wretched wretch indeed!”

“My land!” exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, stopping abruptly in the act of masticating a large chocolate walnut, “so bad as that, Mr. Geoffrey?”

“Worse!” he nodded gloomily.  “It is indeed a gloomy tale, a tale dark and dismal that I love not the telling of, for, Mrs. Trapes, that more than hopeless wretch stands, or rather sits, before you!”

“Save us!” ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, “meanin’ yourself?”

“My unworthy self!”

“Lord!” she whispered, “what you been a-doin’ of?”

“Wasting a promising life, Mrs. Trapes!”

“You mean,” she questioned in a harsh whisper, “you mean as you’ve—­killed some one—­accidental?”

“Oh, no, the life was mine own, Mrs. Trapes.”

“Land sakes, Mr. Geoffrey, you give me quite a turn!  Y’ see, sometimes folks gets theirselves killed around here—­an’ it’s always accidental—­sure!” and Mrs. Trapes nodded meaningly and went on chewing.  “But say,” she demanded, suddenly sharp of eye, “where does Arthur come in?”

“Arthur comes in right here, Mrs. Trapes!  In fact, Arthur broke into my—­er—­life just when things were at their darkest generally.  Arthur found me very depressed and gloomy.  Arthur taught me that life might yet have its uses.  Arthur lifted me out of the Slough of Despond.  Arthur brought me—­to you!  And behold! life is good and perchance shall be even better if—­ah yes, if!  So you see, my dear Mrs. Trapes, Arthur has done much for me, consequently I have much to thank Arthur for.  Indeed, I look upon Arthur—­”

“Shucks!” exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, “that’ll be about enough about Arthur—­Arthur, indeed!  You oughter know his sister!” Now at this her lodger started and glanced at her so suddenly, and with eyes so unexpectedly keen that once again she suspended mastication.

“Now, in the name of all that’s wonderful, Mrs. Trapes, why mention her?”

“Why, because she’s worth knowin’!  Because she’s the best, the bravest, the sweetest thing that ever went in petticoats.  She’s beautiful inside and out—­mind, I’ve nursed her in these arms years ago an’ I know she’s—­oh, well, you ought to meet Hermy!”

“Mrs. Trapes, I have!”

“Eh?  You have?  My lan’!” Mrs. Trapes bolted a caramel in her astonishment and thereafter stared at Ravenslee with watering eyes.  “An’ you to set there an’ never tell me!” quoth she, “an’ Hermy never told me—­well, well!  When did ye meet her?  Whereabouts?  How?”

“About half an hour ago!  Coming up the stairs!  I carried her grip!”

“Well!” exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, staring, “well, well!” and she continued to munch candy and to stare and say “well!” at intervals until arrested by a new thought.  “That b’y!” she exclaimed.  “Was Arthur with her?”