( 177 ) 



THE BOARDING-HOUSE. No. II.* 



" WELL/' said little Mrs. Tibbs to herself, as she sat in the front 

 parlour of the Coram-street mansion one morning, mending the piece 

 of stair-carpet off the first landing ; " well ! things have not turned 

 out so badly either, and if I only get a favourable answer to the ad- 

 vertisement, we shall be full again/' 



Mrs. Tibbs resumed her occupation of making worsted lattice- 

 work in the carpet, anxiously listening to the twopenny postman, 

 who was hammering his way down the street at the rate of a 

 penny a knock. The house was as quiet as possible. There was 

 only one low sound to be heard it was the unhappy Tibbs clean- 

 ing the gentlemen's boots in the back kitchen, and accompanying 

 himself with a buzzing noise, in wretched mockery of humming a 

 tune. 



The postman drew near the house. He paused so did Mrs. 

 Tibbs a knock a bustle a letter post-paid. 



" T. I. presents compt. to I. T. and T. I. begs To say that i see 

 the advertisement And she will Do Herself the pleasure of calling 

 On you at 12 o'clock to-morrow morning. 



" T. I. has To apoligise to I. T. for the shortness Of the notice 

 But i hope it will not unconvenience you. 

 " I remain 



<f yours Truly 



" Wednesday evening." 



Little Mrs. Tibbs perused the document over and over again ; and 

 the more she read it, the more was she confused by the mixture of 

 the first and third person ; the substitution of the " I" for the " T, 

 I," and the transition from the " I. T." to the " you." The writing 

 looked like a skein of thread in a tangle, and the note was inge- 

 niously folded into a perfect square, with the direction squeezed up 

 into the right-hand corner, as if it were ashamed of itself. The 

 back of the epistle was pleasingly ornamented with a large red 

 wafer, which, with the addition of divers ink-stains, bore a mar- 

 vellous resemblance to a black-beetle trod upon. One thing, how- 

 ever, was perfectly clear to the perplexed Mrs. Tibbs. Somebody 

 was to call at twelve. The drawing-room was forthwith dusted for 

 the third time that morning ; three or four chairs were pulled out of 

 their places, and a corresponding number of books carefully upset, in 

 order that there might be a due absence of formality. Down went 

 the piece of stair-carpet before noticed, and up ran Mrs. Tibbs 

 " to make herself tidy." 



The clock of New Saint Pancras Church struck twelve, and the 

 Foundling, with laudable politeness, did the same ten minutes after- 

 wards. Saint something else struck the quarter, and then there ar- 

 rived a single lady with a double knock, in a pelisse the colour of the 

 interior of a damson pie ; a bonnet of the same, with a regular con- 

 No. I, appeared in the April number. 



M.M. No. 104. 2 A 



