Into Mrs. Brandon’s parlour Mr. Ridley’s old father would sometimes enter of evenings, and share the bit of bread and cheese, or the modest supper of Mrs. Brandon and the captain. The homely little meal has almost vanished out of our life now, but in former days it assembled many a family round its kindly board. A little modest supper-tray — a little quiet prattle — a little kindly glass that cheered and never inebriated. I can see friendly faces smiling round such a meal, at a period not far gone, but how distant! I wonder whether there are any old folks now in old quarters of old country towns, who come to each other’s houses in sedan-chairs, at six o’clock, and play at quadrille until supper-tray time?

Of evenings Ridley and the captain, I say, would have a solemn game at cribbage, and the Little Sister would make up a jug of something good for the two oldsters. She liked Mr. Ridley to come, for he always treated her father so respectful, and was quite the gentleman. And as for Mrs. Ridley, Mr.R.’s “good lady," — was she not also grateful to the Little Sister for having nursed her son during his malady? Through their connection they were enabled to procure Mrs. Brandon many; and always were pleased to pass an evening with the captain, and were as civil to him as they could have been had he been at the very height of his prosperity and splendour.

My private opinion of the old captain, you see,is that he was a worthless old captain, but most fortunate in his early ruin, after which he had lived very much admired and comfortable, sufficient whisky being almost always provided for him.Old Mr. Ridley’s respect for her father afforded a most precious consolation to the Little Sister. Ridley liked to have the paper read to him. He was never quite easy with print, and to his last days, many words to be met with in newspapers and elsewhere used to occasion the good butler much intellectual trouble.

The Little Sister made his lodger’s bills out for him (Mr. R., as well as the captain’s daughter, strove to increase a small income by the letting of furnished apartments), or the captain himself would take these documents in charge The Popehimself does not demand the ceremony fromProtestants; he wrote a noble mercantile hand, rendered now somewhat shaky by time, but still very fine in flourishes and capitals, and very much at worthy Mr. Ridley’s service. Time was, when his son was a boy, that J. J. himself had prepared these accounts, which neither his father nor his mother were very competent to arrange. “We were not in our young time, Mr. Gann,” Ridley remarked to his friend, “brought up to much scholarship; and very little book learning was given to persons in my rank of life.

It was necessary and proper for you gentlemen, of course, sir.” “Of course, Mr. Ridley,” winks the other veteran over his pipe. “But I can’t go and ask my son John James to keep his old father’s books now as he used to do — which to do so is, on the part of you and Mrs. Brandon, the part of true friendship, and I value it, sir, and so do my son John James reckonize and value it, sir.” Mr. Ridley had served gentlemen of the bonne école. No nobleman could be more courtly and grave than he was.