AT THE BAR.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "A CRUISE UPON WHEELS," &c. &c.

CHAPTER XIV. MISCHIEF BREWING.

"CONGRATULATE me, Gilbert," said Mr.
Lethwaite, as he sat himself down one evening
in the room where our young friends the Penmores
were at work, the husband turning out a
copy of verses for a certain periodical, and the
wife engaged in knitting the heel of a stocking,
which is as critical a proceeding as any other
that can be mentioned. She had intimated by
a shake of the head to Mr. Lethwaite when he
came in that he must not speak to her or expect
her to shake hands. Then she went on
counting with all her might.

"Ah, I see it's as bad as playing on the
drums," said Lethwaite; and the wife, being
thus absorbed, he went and sat himself down by
the husband, and began to talk to him, as we
have seen. But Gilbert lifted his hand in deprecation.
His eye was in a fine frenzy rolling;
he was in agonies over a difficult line.

"Hang it," muttered Mr. Lethwaite to
himself, "I have chosen the wrong moment."

Penmore entreated him once more by a gesture
to forbear, and, presently finishing the last
line with a flourish of the pen, and then repeating
the words of his friend, which he had heard
but vaguely, asked,

"'Congratulate you' on what? On having
everything that this world can give?"

"On having nothing," replied the other, quite
imperturbably.

Mrs. Penmore looked up from her work, concluded
that he was joking, naturally enough,
and went on knitting.

"Yes," replied Gilbert; "we all know that
that's the case."

"I assure you that it is the case," continued
Lethwaite in the same tone. "My partner has
bolted with everything he could lay his hands
on, leaving us nothing but our embarrassments."

"What do you mean?" asked Penmore.

The astonishment of the husband and wife, as
Lethwaite unfolded his tale, was altogether unbounded,
as indeed was their sympathy. People
must have seen something of poverty themselves
to be able to feel for the pecuniary troubles of
others. Lethwaite himself seemed to be the
least moved of the party.

"One of the advantages of having no feeling,"
he said, "is, that I really don't seem to
care about this business."

"Not care about it?" repeated husband and
wife in a breath.

"Upon my honour I don't at present," replied
this remarkable personage. "I don't know
what I may do hereafter."

"Well, but what do you mean to do?" asked
Penmore.

"Do? Oh, I shall drum."

"Drum!"

"Yes; my musical friends tell me that there's
a very respectable income to be made out of
dexterous drumming."

"Dear me!" ejaculated Gilbert, somewhat
bewildered.

"Oh yes," continued Lethwaite, "consider
what a power of destruction lies in the hands of
the drummer; how easily he may destroy everything.
It is worth any money to secure a man
who, with tight parchment before him, and drumsticks
in his hands, is capable of self-control,
and can keep himself within bounds."

"I can conceive that," said little Mrs. Penmore.

"But do you mean to say," asked her husband,
"that you actually contemplate turning
your drumming powers to account?"

"I do most distinctly. Oh, I assure you I'm
under no uneasiness whatever. Then there's
the watch-making."

"You're rather slow at that, arn't you?" said
Gilbert.

"Well, I am a little. Then there are one's
relations. Mine are an infernal set; but then
they're proud."

"Is that a quality which is likely to help you
just now?" asked Penmore.

"Most undoubtedly. They'll hear of my
losses; then they'll say, 'Suppose he should
destroy himself, what a disgrace to the family!'
and then they'll come down. Here's one of the
advantages, you see, of an insight into motive;
I can tell at once what they'll say and what
they'll do. But I'd rather do without them."

"You take a cheerful view of things, I must
say, Lethwaite."

"One of the advantages of having no feeling.
By-the-by, there's one thing I don't take a very
cheerful view of. I'm very uneasy about the
look-out of my poor old clerk; I can't think
what will become of him."

"What, old Goodrich?" said Penmore. "I