down softly and laid her hand on his arm.
"He is up-stairs," she whispered; "poor Ross!
he has been here this hour—in a miserable state,
and O, my dear husband, you will let me
remind you of your kind and generous promise the
other night, for he wants all your indulgence.
They have disgraced him—turned him out of the
army. So that if he is at all fretful, or ill
tempered. I know you will——"

Mr. Tillotson's open face glowed with deep
sympathy, and almost grief. He took her hand.
"Let us go to him. We shall help him in
some way, in spite of himself. And, as to my
minding a word he may say, you shall see. Now
watch me."

They went up. Ross was standing with his
back to the fire, worn and dejected, with
lines in his face, and his hair wild and tossed.
His face lighted up when he saw them, and he
gave an impatient stamp upon the rug. But
Mr. Tillotson advanced to him with his hand
out and the kindest greeting. "My dear Ross,
I am so glad you have come to us. You must
keep up, and not be cast down. Everything
will come right again, and if one thing goes a
little astray, something else will turn up. We
shall make it turn up."

Ross was embarrassed by this sweetness and
warmth. He looked up moodily. "Ah, you
may say that, who are on the right side in
everything: you were born to luck. I was not. It is
very easy to give comfort of that sort; but what
does it mean?"

"Exactly," said the other, heartily; "a most
sensible question. Now sit down there, and let
us all draw our chairs together, and look into
the business, and see what is the best course.
There."

The word "all" grated on Ross; and, as he
turned to Mrs. Tillotson, he saw her face suffused
with gratitude. That look stung him, and he
pushed away the chair.

"I want no councils held over my affairs,"
he said. "I am no pauper coming here to beg
money and aid. Do you take me for that?—tell
me. Do you suppose I have come to you for
that? Answer me."

"Heaven forbid!" Mr. Tillotson answered, in
the same unruffled tone. "You have merely
come to friends, to——"

Ross tried to laugh. "Friends! That's not
so bad. Understand me. I want nothing.
From this house at least. I have lots—lots
of friends! I have just come to see this—this
Mrs. Tillotson. Any harm in that? Is it a
crime? Do you object?"

Nothing could disturb Mr. Tillotson. "So
far from that, you shall be always welcome. I
am afraid, then, we are not to venture to try
and help you?"

"Once more, Mr. Tillotson," said the other,
roughly, "give that up. I've come here to see
her. True, I have left the army, or say, if you
like, they have turned me out. Well, if they
have? Better and more honourable men than
I am have been turned out. Infernal jobbers!
If I was a lord, or had a lord or cousin or an
uncle at the Horse Guards, how soon the matter
would be jobbed over! It's as vile and as
rotten a den as there is in the kingdom. And
what did I do, after all? What thousands
have done. And why did I do it? Was it
to shirk duty? No, before God. And then
they go and disgrace me—disgrace me—that
I never can hold up my head in decent company
again."

Both faces were turned to him with deep
compassion.

"Now, dear Mr. Ross," she said, "that is what
gives you a claim upon us. We know why you
came away, and why will you not let us take
counsel with you and see what can be done?
We know people that have power, and we could
get——"

"We this, we that," said Ross, bitterly.
"Charming partnership, isn't it? I want none
of it. I was sick of the army. I wouldn't
go back to it to-morrow, if you gave me a
million. I shall do very well, never fear.
Don't waste your joint sympathies on me, pray.
I shall have more money than I know what to
do with by-and-by. I have just been with the
lawyers, and our case is down, my friend, and
I can tell you you wouldn't be comforted
by hearing what they have to tell me. But
luck isn't to go all one way for ever,
recollect."

"If there is to be a victory for you," said
Mr. Tillotson, "I shall be just as glad. Will
you believe me?"

"That's all very well," said the other. "No
compliment in that. It's time, indeed, luck
turned. God knows I have been persecuted
enough. I have had a wretched life of it.
Haven't I, now? Admit it. Everything has
gone wrong with me; while with you, Tillotson,
everything has gone entirely the other
way."

Mr. Tillotson shook his head. "If you knew
all," he said, "you would not say that. Your
life has been a paradise to mine."

"Well, we can't help it," said the other.
"Every man gets a rub. I suppose you think
I shall end in a ditch one day; and the sooner
the better, I say."

"Not at all," said Mr. Tillotson, cheerfully.
"Things will mend, never fear. You won't let
me do anything for you, so I shall not say
anything more of that. Still, if you care to come
here and consult your old friend, and if you can
let us persuade you that there is nothing waiting
you here but sympathy and regard, I hope
you will come very often—when you choose, in
fact—dine with us."

Ross looked at him doubtfully, then said, half
sulkily, "Why should I? Yet it's no such
compliment, after all."

"Exactly," said Mr. Tillotson. "Now we
look at it in the proper view. No compliment
whatever. Come when you like—go when you
like. Is that agreed?"

Ross gave a rough laugh, and took his
hat.

"He has wonderful virtue," he said. "They