the drumming part of the business. It stuck
in his throat as the muffins did—figuratively.

"Oh, you obstinate old villain!" continued
Lethwaite, breaking out as usual into the
Ianguage of affectionate vituperation. "I declare
that, if I didn't feel convinced that it would be
no use, and that you wouldn't go, I'd turn you
out of my employment this very day. By-the-by,
though, now I think of it, you must go.
There will be no office for you to attend soon;
I'm so glad! and you'll be obliged to accept
some comfortable appointment somewhere else."

"Not if I can help it, sir. I've saved a little
money—thanks to your liberality and that of
your revered father; and as long as that will
last I shall wait."

"Wait, and for what, you old—aggravator?"

"Wait for you, sir, in case you want me.
There's no telling, sir," he continued, anxious
to prevent "Mr. Julius" from getting in a word
edgeways. "There's no telling; something may
come of those American securities yet."

"You hear this man," interrupted Lethwaite,
calmly, and addressing an imaginary jury of
mad doctors, or Lunacy Commissioners. "You
hear this man, and allow him to be at large."

"Ah, it's all very well, sir; but something
may come of them, and all that cotton that's
ware'oused at Augusta may be got at yet; and
then we might go on again still; yes, and then
(for all he's an old goose, and an old aggravator,
which I won't deny), you may want the
services of Jonathan Goodrich yet; and then
where should I be, if I'd got some other occupation
and couldn't come? Why, it would go
near to break my heart—that it would."

"Ah, Jonathan, you're building castles in
the air to an extent which, at your time of life,
is disgraceful. I'll tell you what, if ever what
you have said should come about the firm shall
have a new name in it, and shall be Lethwaite and
Goodrich instead of Lethwaite and Gamlin."

There is no need to give the good old man's
reply. The conversation, which turned upon
business-matters, was soon after interrupted by
the arrival of Gilbert Penmore. He was passing
from one newspaper office to another, and,
his friend's new lodgings being all in the way,
had come in to make a proposal which he and
Gabrielle had concocted between them.

"I've just snatched a moment," said Gilbert,
"in passing, to come in and have a look at your
new lodgings. Well, I don't know, I'm sure,"
he continued, looking about him. "They're
rather dingy, aren't they? Perhaps it's the
comparison which they suggest with the old.
What do you say, Mr. Goodrich?"

"Well, sir, I've just been expressing to Mr.
Lethwaite my opinion that he's gone to work
too suddenly, and come down too rapidly. It's
a sad pokey place, sir; and there's a chest of
drawers——"

"Oh, never mind the chest of drawers," said
Lethwaite, laughing. "I can give them up
altogether, if the worst comes to the worst, and
live out of my portmanteau."

"The fact is," said Gilbert, "I've rather an
interested motive in disparaging these rooms,
because I want you to come and take ours."

"Yours? Why, they're taken already. Hasn't
Miss Carrington——?"

"Miss Carrington is going to leave. We have
had rather an unpleasant scene with her, and it
was agreed that we had better part."

"And when does she go?"

"To-morrow."

"Oh, I'll come, of course. I shall be only
too delighted. Jonathan, any day after
tomorrow you'll find me at Mr. Penmore's. You
know where?"

"I don't know whether we can be ready so
soon as that," said Gilbert; "but, if not, you
shall hear. It's very kind of you, though, to be
ready to fill up our vacancy so quickly."

"So far from that, it is one of the profoundest
pieces of selfishness which could be conceived.
I shall be in clean and comfortable quarters.
I shall be incomparably better looked after than
I am here, and I shall have the society I like
without going across the threshold for it. Oh,
don't imagine that you've caught me at a good
action, whatever you do."

"I've caught you at a good many before now."

"Never—nor anybody else. I get more confirmed
in my opinions as to the depravity of
human motive every day I live. There's only
this old file," he continued, pointing to Mr.
Goodrich, "whom I can't make out. I can't
conceive why he doesn't throw me overboard,
and secure some better berth while he can."

The old man shook his head, and said smiling:
"You're always at your jokes, Mr. Julius."

   CHAPTER XVII. A FATAL MISTAKE.

THE evening which followed that painful scene
previously narrated, when the feeling, so long
pent up in Gabrielle Penmore's breast, at length
found vent, was one of those which Gilbert was
compelled to pass away from home.

Poor Gabrielle then was left alone, and with
plenty of leisure to reflect upon the miserable
circumstances which had just taken place. She
was not sparing in self-reproach, though,
Heaven knows, there was small enough ground
for it. What provocation had she not received?
How long and how patiently had she endured
before her brief auger was allowed to have its
way! But there are consciences and consciences,
and a very small load will weigh more,
on some minds, than a very great one will do on
others. There are some whose consciences will
not allow them to look over the hedge, and
some who may steal the horse, and yet feel
quite comfortable, only an anxiety as to whether
they will be found out or not.

Gabrielle fell to brooding over this matter.
Had her husband been present, it would have
been otherwise, but there was no one to comfort
her, and tell her how justifiable her irritation had
been. A judicious friend would have been
invaluable; but Gabrielle had at this time few
friends. The fact that both she and her husband
had been brought up and had lived among those
far-distant islands during the time when friendships