Punch, or the London Charivari

As I went I heard a soft chuckle from within, the senseless laughter, as I diagnosed it, of a raving maniac.

* * * * *

I got down to breakfast early next morning, determined to tell the whole sad story and have Miss Brown put under restraint without further ado.

Before I could get a word out, however, the lunatic herself appeared, looking, I thought, absolutely full of beans. She and Aunt Angela exchanged salutations.

"I hope you slept better last night, Jane."

"Splendidly, thank you, Angela, except for an hour or so; but I got up and walked it off."

"Walked it off! Where?"

"All over the house. Most exciting."

"Do you mean to say you were walking about the house last night all by yourself?" Aunt Angela exclaimed in horror.

Miss Brown shook her grey head. "Oh, no, not by myself. Our sympathetic young friend had a touch of insomnia himself for once and was good enough to keep me company." She smiled sweetly in my direction. "He was most