and exposed, were suggestive of a set of tombstones planted outside a
stonemason's shop, or an upper and lower set exhibited at the entrance
to a dentist's operating-room. Poor dear Miss Blake, she and those
pronounced teeth parted company long ago, and a much more becoming
set--which she got exceedingly cheap, by agreeing with the maker to
"send the whole of the city of London to her, if he liked"--now occupy
their place.

But on that especial morning they were very prominent. Everything, in
fact, about the lady, or belonging to her, seemed exaggerated, as if the
heat of the weather had induced a tropical growth of her mental and
bodily peculiarities. Her bonnet was crooked beyond even the ordinary
capacity of Miss Blake's head-gear; the strings were rolled up till they
looked like ropes which had been knotted under her chin. A veil, as
large and black as a pirate's flag, floated down her back; her shawl was
at sixes and sevens; one side of her dress had got torn from the bodice,
and trailed on the ground leaving a broadly-marked line of dust on the
carpet. She looked as if she had no petticoats on; and her boots--those
were the days ere side-springs and buttons obtained--were one laced
unevenly, and the other tied on with a piece of ribbon.

As for her gloves, they were in the state we always beheld them; if she
ever bought a new pair (which I do not believe), she never treated us to
a sight of them till they had been long past decent service. They never
were buttoned, to begin with; they had a wrinkled and haggard
appearance, as if from extreme old age. If their colour had originally
been lavender, they were always black with dirt; if black, they were
white with wear.

As a bad job, she had, apparently, years before, given up putting a