Miss Rachel, giving him a little slap on the shoulder with her slender
fingers.

His reading, you see, lay more in circulating library lore, and he was
not deep in Johnson--as few of us would be, I'm afraid, if it were not
for Boswell.

'It's a confounded deal more like the "Valley of the Shadow of Death," in
"Pilgrim's Progress"--you remember--that old Tamar used to read to us in
the nursery,' replied Master Stanley, who had never enjoyed being quizzed
by his sister, not being blessed with a remarkably sweet temper.

'If you don't like my scenery, come in, Stanley, and admire my
decorations. You must tell me all the news, and I'll show you my house,
and amaze you with my housekeeping. Dear me, how long it is since I've
seen you.'

So she led him in by the arm to her tiny drawing-room; and he laid his
hat and stick, and gray paletot, on her little marquetrie-table, and sat
down, and looked languidly about him, with a sly smile, like a man
amused.

'It is an odd fancy, living alone here.'

'An odd necessity, Stanley.'

'Aren't you afraid of being robbed and murdered, Radie?' he said, leaning
forward to smell at the pretty bouquet in the little glass, and turning
it listlessly round. 'There are lots of those burglar fellows going
about, you know.'