alarm and inquiry, when the error was discovered, and apologized for, the old gentleman merely saying, ‘Don’t let it happen again.’  Next day he drank his Port, as usual, and the wheels of the Aurora went smoothly.  The landlady was thus justified in averring that something had been done by somebody, albeit unable to point to anything specific.  Women, who are almost as deeply bound to habit as old gentlemen, possess more of its spiritual element, and are warned by dreams, omens, creepings of the flesh, unwonted chills, suicide of china, and other shadowing signs, when a break is to be anticipated, or, has occurred.  The landlady of the Aurora tavern was visited by none of these, and with that beautiful trust which habit gives, and which boastful love or vainer earthly qualities would fail in effecting, she ordered that the pint of Madeira should stand from six o’clock in the evening till seven—­a small monument of confidence in him who was at one instant the ‘poor old dear’; at another, the ‘naughty old gad-about’; further, the ’faithless old-good-for-nothing’; and again, the ‘blessed pet’ of the landlady’s parlour, alternately and indiscriminately apostrophized by herself, her sister, and daughter.

On the last day of the month a step was heard coming up the long alley which led from the riotous scrambling street to the plentiful cheerful heart of the Aurora.  The landlady knew the step.  She checked the natural flutterings of her ribbons, toned down the strong simper that was on her lips, rose, pushed aside her daughter, and, as the step approached, curtsied composedly.  Old Habit lifted his hat, and passed.  With the same touching confidence in the Aurora that the Aurora had in him, he went straight to his corner, expressed no surprise at his welcome by the Madeira, and thereby apparently indicated that his appearance should enjoy a similar immunity.

As of old, he called ‘Jonathan!’ and was not to be disturbed till he did so.  Seeing that Jonathan smirked and twiddled his napkin, the old gentleman added, ‘Thursday!’

But Jonathan, a man, had not his mistress’s keen intuition of the deportment necessitated by the case, or was incapable of putting the screw upon weak excited nature, for he continued to smirk, and was remarking how glad he was, he was sure, and something he had dared to think and almost to fear, when the old gentleman called to him, as if he were at the other end of the room, ’Will you order Thursday, or not, sir?’ Whereat Jonathan flew, and two or three cosy diners glanced up from their plates, or the paper, smiled, and pursued their capital occupation.

‘Glad to see me!’ the old gentleman muttered, querulously.  ’Of course, glad to see a customer!  Why do you tell me that?  Talk! tattle! might as well have a woman to wait—­just!’

He wiped his forehead largely with his handkerchief; as one whom Calamity hunted a little too hard in summer weather.

‘No tumbling-room for the wine, too!’