Above the chimney-piece hung
that striking if not attractive portrait of Joanna Southcott and her
amanuensis, with which we are already acquainted; and it tickled the
young man's fancy amazingly. He concluded it was a family group--the
likeness, perhaps, of Mrs. Basil and her late husband engaged in making
out their weekly accounts. "I will beg Agnes not to be jealous of our
charming landlady," thought he, and took out his note-book with the
intention of transferring the likeness for that young lady's amusement.
While engaged in this occupation the door opened, and in stepped Mrs.
Basil and her new tenant. In his alarm and haste he stepped back
suddenly, and overthrew a little table, on which were some ornaments, he
knew not what, which rolled to his mother's feet. She uttered a cry of
horror; and the landlady herself stood still, regarding him with a face
of astonishment, and even terror.
"Is that--your--son?" exclaimed she, clutching his mother by the arm.
But Mrs. Coe did not seem to hear her.
"Look, look!" cried she; "the skull, the skull! Oh, is it not a
frightful omen!"
"I am really very sorry," said Charley, picking up the article in
question; "it was very stupid of me, Mrs. Basil."
"Don't mention it, young Sir," said the landlady, who had apparently
recovered from her sudden tremor; "the skull is no worse for its roll,
you see; he was fortunately a hard-headed gentleman who originally owned
it.
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