had appointed a valuer; also that certain obvious repairs should be undertaken and done at once, so as to give to the parsonage the appearance of being in excellent order, and cut away all excuse for piling up dilapidations. Mr. Scantlebray ventured humbly to state that he had had a good deal of experience with those gentlemen who acted as valuers for dilapidations, and with pain he was obliged to add that a more unscrupulous set of men it had never been his bad fortune to come into contact with. He ventured to assert that, were he to tell all he knew, or only half of what he knew, as to their proceedings in valuing for dilapidations, he would make both of Miss Trevisa's ears tingle.
At once Miss Dionysia entreated Mr. Scantlebray to superintend and carry out with expedition such repairs and such demolitions as he deemed expedient, so as to forestall the other party.
"Chicken!" said Mr. Cargreen. "That's what I've brought for my lunch."
"And 'am is what I've got," said Mr. Scantlebray. "They'll go lovely together." Then, in a loud tone—"Come in!"
The door opened, and a carpenter entered with a piece of deal board in his hand.
"You won't mind looking out of the winder, Mr. Cargreen?" said Mr. Scantlebray. "Some business that's partick'ler my own. You'll find the jessamine—the white jessamine—smells beautiful."
Mr. Cargreen rose, and went to the dining-room window that was embowered in white jessamine, then in full flower and fragrance.
"What is it, Davy?"
"Well, sir, I ain't got no dry old board for the floor where it be rotten, nor for the panelling of the doors where broken through."
"No board at all?"
"No, sir—all is green. Only cut last winter."
"Won't it take paint?"
"Well, sir, not well. I've dried this piece by the kitchen fire, and I find it'll take the paint for a time."
"Run, dry all the panels at the kitchen fire, and then paint 'em."
"Thanky', sir; but how about the boarding of the floor? The boards'll warp and start."
