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When they arrived at the protruding table, by a preconcerted arrangement Mrs. Griffin handed Mr. Abbert to the one side and squeezed herself through the other–an action which was imitated by the rest of the company, who were finally seated close up to the door–all but Mr. Griffin, who was to occupy the extra chair, and, as he was already inside, and there was no other means of exit, he was obliged to pass through the kitchen and around the house. He soon appeared again through the front door and the dinner began.

Mrs. Griffin, who had long before left Superannuated to finish while she perfected her toilet, now rang the bell and, on her appearance, whispered in her ear. Superannuated whispered in her mistress’s ear. Mrs. Griffin thereupon uttered a little cry and looked at Mr. Griffin. Mr. Griffin, in consternation, cried, “My dear!” and attempted to squeeze between the chairs, but failed. Then he looked wildly about him, and at last ran through the front door. He soon reappeared at the side of his fainting wife, who revived enough to say,–

“I shall never, never forgive you! Oh, the humiliation! the agony!” then fainted again.

“What is it?” “What’s the matter?” “She’s fainted!” and confused screams of the ladies came from all sides. Mrs. Dripps passed along her salts bottle. Mrs. Abbert held Mrs. Griffin’s head, and Fred applied water. Under the strong influence of these restoratives she soon revived, and whispered to her husband something which caused him also to start and look despairingly at her.

She then said to him, loud enough for all to hear, “You must tell them it was your fault. Oh, the humiliation!” Here she burst out again, with her handkerchief to her eyes, and Mrs. Abbert soothingly said, “Oh, never mind him, my dear. I wouldn’t mind him!” This was growing invidious, and all the gentlemen at the bottom of the table were looking scornfully at him.

He therefore said, in a loud voice,–

“The turkey has not arrived,–that is all.”

“That is all,” whimpered Mrs. Griffin, mockingly. “That is all, he says; and isn’t it enough, sir, to have all your domestic failings exposed to the world?”

Mrs. Griffin alluded to cooking facilities, and grew very bitter, while “the world” simpered and exchanged looks.

Mr. Griffin then, in desperation, explained the whole matter,–how he had left the card for David Dubbs, and paid for the turkey, and come unsuspectingly home. “As,” he added, “I have done year after year, for—-“

Here Mrs. Griffin checked him with symptoms of another faint, and he stopped short.

Mr. Abbert then said it was all that rascally clerk, and he ought to be discharged at once.

“I know ’em,” he added violently and with deeply implied wisdom, which, by the way, was the only species of wisdom he ever attained to. “I know ’em, Griffin!”

Mr. Fred was of a similar opinion, and even more violent in his denunciation of David, as he had set his heart on turkey, and the appetite died painfully within him.

All the ladies and gentlemen were of various opinions, but all concentrated their rage on the poor, innocent little clerk, and panted for his clerkly death. In the midst of all this commotion the door-bell rang, and intensified it twofold, for nobody could get through to the door but by going around the house. This Superannuated finally did, and brought back with her the identical little clerk,–the poor, agitated, and bowing little clerk who had unconsciously aroused all the indignation and tumult, whom sundry gentlemen at the lower end of the table had threatened with severe punishment if they ever caught sight of him, and who, now catching sight of him, were more than usually silent.

Mr. Griffin looked threateningly at him as, hat in hand, he walked up to him, presented a letter, and, in his faint voice, said,–

“A letter for you, sir, left for me to deliver.”

He took it, and David continued tremulously to say,–