Tulloch now got into a sort of easy way of
dropping in at the Mahons' and taking a cup of
tea; and it was wonderful, considering the distance
between Regent-street where he lodged,
and Kensington, how often he contrived to pass
his evenings at Number Thirty-five, Sheffield-row.
I know, whenever I could snatch an hour
or two to pass there, I always found him installed
— generally close to Kate— while he and
Ellie rallied each other, and I was usually
handed over for a hit at backgammon to the papa.

I confess I was annoyed. Could Kate care
for this man, whose whole exterior was a
complete though unintentional deception? He
had sound health, capital digestion, and a
certain surface sensitiveness which laid him
peculiarly open to the delight of pleasing.

Then the superiority of his pecuniary position
gave him a delicious sense of pre-eminence over
those who used to patronise him, mixed with
the extreme attraction Mahon's lovely daughters
naturally offered: while they, inexperienced and
full of all generous-heartedness, gave him credit
for the truth of sympathy, which led him to
desert his gayer friends for that humble house.

And Kate used even to look with admiration
at the tall stately form and bold black
eyes of the stalwart Scot, at least I thought
so! while she was insultingly familiar with me.
Why had I let her glide into that half-sisterly
half-filial tone of intercourse? Yet, was it not
better so? I was not, to use a favourite phrase,
"in a position to marry," and how could I dream
of dragging my sweet cousin into even deeper
troubles than she had already to contend with?

It happened that we both (Tulloch and myself)
met one Saturday evening, about three weeks
after the little dinner above described, at Sheffield-row,
and, to our surprise, Kate was absent.

"Where is Kate?" was our unanimous exclamation.

"Gone to dine with Timbs; no less," returned
the father, laughing heartily. "You know, he
is educating her; he thinks she hasn't been
properly developed, so he sends her books.
What's the last she has been reading, Ellie dear?
Abercrombie's Intellectual Powers? More
power to him. And then, when the old fellow
thinks she has sufficiently 'marked, learned, and
inwardly digested it,' he sends for her, and the
divil a thing have they for dinner, beyond the
feast of reason and the flow of soul, but two
chops. Oh, Lord! To think of scraping up a hundred
thousand pounds, spending your youth and
manhood putting it together, to dine on a chop
every day in a room without a carpet, when you
are on the shady side of sixty! Faith, my Katie
is the only glimpse of comfort the old sinner has,
so he sends for her now and again, to teach her
how to live. Heaven help him!" added Mahon,
laughing genially out of his superior heart-wisdom.
"As if she couldn't teach a dozen like
him, if they were not too old to learn!"

"But," said Tulloch, a little bewildered by
the train of ideas this speech suggested, "Mr.
Timbs is a man of high standing in his way,
a man of substantial wealth." Tulloch spoke
in the tone of genuine respect with which he
always mentioned money, and as though he were
somewhat scandalised by Mahon's half-contemptuous
mention. "I am told his name on a
direction would float any company."

"May be so; he ought to have something,
for it's a poor life to be always rolled up
like a mummy in parchment."

Kate came in before we left. She looked a
little weary.

Tulloch became, almost imperceptibly, less
impressed about her than formerly. He seemed
awakened to the fact that the kindly Bohemianism
of the party did not suit his substantial position.

Our Crystal Palace expedition had somehow
never come off. In truth, Tulloch hated to
spend his own money, but, to do him justice, he
was equally careful of other people's; and, I
know not if it were tact or forgetfulness, but
the girls had dropped the subject.

On the evening in question, Kate observed
that she did not think the renowned Timbs was
well, or in his usual spirits. "Poor old man,"
she added, "I feel sorry for him."

Tulloch seemed uneasy at this. How was it
that persons earning their daily bread with uncertainty
should look down upon and compassionate
a millionnaire like Timbs?

Then Kate sat down to the piano, and sang
us some Scotch and Irish ballads with simple
pathos, and in just the rich sweet voice you
might expect from her.

We returned in an omnibus that night as usual,
and before we had proceeded half way, a little
elderly pale foreign-looking woman, who sat upon
the opposite side from us, suddenly discovered
that she had lost her purse; she was respectably
dressed, in well-preserved but faded black, and it
was pitiable to see the fierce trembling anxiety
with which she shook herself and disturbed every
one, and appealed to the conductor.

"Mais bon Dieu! I had it when I got in at
Hammersmith." A frantic plunge into her
pocket. " Ah! ciel! would these gentlemen
be good enough to move?"

I rose, so did Tulloch, but grumblingly. " I
suppose she thinks we picked her pocket," he
muttered.

"Hush " said I, for the poor soul, seeing that
it was indeed gone, sank down on the seat and
covered her face, with such sincere and genuine
emotion, that I could not but feel touched.

"But I have not money to pay my fare,"
she exclaimed, removing her hands from her
face, which looked ghastly.

Though at the risk of being considered a
muff, and feeling considerably ashamed of myself,
I said, " Do not let that distress you; I
shall be very happy to pay it; I hope you
not lose much."

"No, not much, yet all to me! Thank you,
sir; you do me a great service."

She got out somewhere in Piccadilly, and I
very readily bestowed the required sixpence on
the conductor.

"Well, you are green for a Londoner!" said
Tulloch, with a sneer, as we stood in the street.
"I never saw a more regular ' do.'"