a fire in the kitchen?" asked Mrs. Quelch the moment she set foot
in the house. Being assured that there was, she proceeded down
the kitchen stairs, Quelch meekly following her. "Now," she said,
pointing to the black bag, "those--things!" Benjamin opened the bag,
and tremblingly took out the frilled night-dress and the cigars.
His wife pointed to the fire, and he meekly laid them on it. "Now
that necktie." The necktie followed the cigars. "And that thing;"
and the hat crowned the funeral pile.

The smell was peculiar, and to the ordinary nose disagreeable, but
to Mrs. Quelch it was as the odour of burnt incense. She watched
the heap as it smouldered away, and finally dispersed the embers
by a vigorous application of the poker.

"Now, Benjamin," she said to her trembling spouse, "I forgive you.
But if ever again--"

The warning was left unspoken, but it was not needed. Benjamin's
one experience has more than satisfied his yearning for soft raiment
and foreign travel, and his hats are taller than ever.






THE THREE STRANGERS

BY THOMAS HARDY