"But you're not afraid of Mrs. William's eye?"

"Why, no, sir," returned Mr. Swidger, "that's what I say myself.
It wasn't made to be afraid of. It wouldn't have been made so
mild, if that was the intention. But I wouldn't like to--Milly!--
him, you know. Down in the Buildings."

Mr. William, standing behind the table, and rummaging
disconcertedly among the objects upon it, directed persuasive
glances at Mrs. William, and secret jerks of his head and thumb at
Mr. Redlaw, as alluring her towards him.

"Him, you know, my love," said Mr. William. "Down in the
Buildings. Tell, my dear! You're the works of Shakespeare in
comparison with myself. Down in the Buildings, you know, my love.-
-Student."

"Student?" repeated Mr. Redlaw, raising his head.

"That's what I say, sir!" cried Mr. William, in the utmost
animation of assent. "If it wasn't the poor student down in the
Buildings, why should you wish to hear it from Mrs. William's lips?
Mrs. William, my dear--Buildings."

"I didn't know," said Milly, with a quiet frankness, free from any
haste or confusion, "that William had said anything about it, or I
wouldn't have come. I asked him not to. It's a sick young
gentleman, sir--and very poor, I am afraid--who is too ill to go
home this holiday-time, and lives, unknown to any one, in but a
common kind of lodging for a gentleman, down in Jerusalem