given encouragement, inclined to be jokesome; sometimes (by accident) he was funny. Mrs Martin paid very little attention to us, and none whatever to her husband's jokes. I laughed loudly. I thought it was so persevering of him to go on trying to be funny when he was married to such a depressing woman. As we got up to go I noticed in a corner a child's chair with a little chintz cover, and seated in it a smiling china doll lacking one arm and a leg.
I could hardly wait till I was outside to tell Boggley what I thought of Mrs. Martin and her house. "The hopeless, untidy creature!" I raved. "She doesn't deserve to have such a little cheery husband or children."
The only thing I don't like about Boggley is that he never will help me to abuse people.
"Poor woman," he said; "she's pretty bad." Then he told me her story as he had heard it.
Ten years ago, it seems, she was quite a cheery managing woman, with two little girls whom she worshipped; she and her husband lived for the children. They were just going to take them home when they sickened with some ailment. Mr. Martin at the time was prostrate after a bad attack of fever. There was no doctor within thirty miles. One child died, and the mother started with the
