"Two hawks," I thought, " fighting for a
half-plucked pigeon."

Mr. Drye caught at the proposal, and, putting
his papers together, prepared to depart.

Heartily disgusted with what I had heard, I
had already moved towards the door. Fred
winked to me to remain, but I persisted, and,
rather piqued, he accompanied me to the door.

What d'ye think of him?" whispered Fred.
"A humbug, eh?"

"A trifle worse, I should say. Has he had
any previous dealings with Miss Sympleson?"

"Many," replied Freddy. "But, I wished
you to understand that I——"

"Have nothing to do with that. I quite
believe it. Your friend is waiting you. Good
morning."

"Oh, well, if that is the tune, good morning,"
said Freddy; and, turning on his heel, rejoined
his confidant.

Few things in the course of my life had caused
me so much regret and annoyance as the
conversation I have related. It is bad enough to
find that one's estimate of a friend's character
has been immeasurably too generous; but to
convict that friend, on his own confession, of
the systematic robbery (it was nothing less) of
another friend, was distressing in the last
degree. It so happened that, almost from the
cradle, Miss Sympleson had shown herself one
of my kindest and most attached friends. My
boyhood had been literally starred with her
gifts and benefits. In return, I loved the gentle-
hearted lady, and, though I did not invariably
adopt the advice it was her passion to impart,
delighted in her society, and the only serious
misunderstanding that had ever risen between
us was caused by my positive refusal to accept
(as a man) money-presents from one on whom
I had no claim on the score of relationship.

Now, what was I to do? Must I allow the
good simple creature to fall a prey to the
insatiate harpy of avarice, represented by Mr.
Suckham Drye and my much-altered friend? As
for the latter, I could not realise his share in it
at all. Prosperity, that engenders selfishness,
and the inborn love of gain, these together
seemed to have effected this mortifying
transformation, and turned an honourable, high-souled,
generous man into a grasping knave. Yet
what right had I to interfere? In what manner
could I set my kind old friend on her guard
against her own nephew? After much cogitation,
I resolved to let things, for the present,
take their course, determined only that, should
an opportunity unexpectedly occur, Miss
Sympleson should hear of something decidedly to
her advantage!

The opportunity never did present itself. A
few weeks after my interview with Bullingham,
the somewhat unsettled current of my life took
the direction of Australia, and fully five years
elapsed before I again set foot on English earth.

During this interval, I had not wholly lost sight
of the doings of my friends at home. I had
more than one letter from Miss Sympleson,
dated from some new residence, containing many
well-timed suggestions as to the produce and
sale of wool and other colonial matters. As
for Fred Bullingham, I noticed that he was
steadily improving in practice and position. He
had entered parliament, was likely to be attorney-
general, and it seemed far from impossible
that the (imaginary) suggestion of the late Duke
of Wellington, as to his fitness for the woolsack,
might be put to the test!

Nor was I entirely without information
concerning Mr. Suckham Drye. His name was
prominently mentioned in financial reports,
generally as promoting schemes of majestic
proportions, which rose to a lofty premium, and were
then suddenly missing from the list of kindred
undertakings. Among these, the St. George's
Channel and Isle of Man Submarine, Limited,
shone conspicuous, and I was attributing its
unusual longevity and strength of constitution
to my friend Bullingham's acceptance of a seat
in its direction, when, one fatal day, the shares,
after a feverish struggle to touch a premium of
sixty-five, fell, as if exhausted by the effort, to
twenty, fourteen, five, twelve discount. The
rest was silence, excepting a single reappearance
in a winding- (sheet, I was about to say)
up form, comprising disclosures of such a
nature, as regarded Mr. Suckham Drye, that I was
not at all surprised to read that that gentleman
had been unable, from severe indisposition, to
attend the meeting.

I landed at Liverpool, after a somewhat
protracted voyage, and, before proceeding to
London, went into Cheshire to pay a hasty visit to
the family of a friend I had left in Australia.
They were gentle, friendly people, not in affluent
circumstances, but evidently the leaders, not
to say benefactors, of the little village-circle in
which they passed their calm existence.

At each of the three meals of which I partook
with the family of Myrtle Grove, I happened to
observe that, before anybody else was helped, a
plateful of whatever was choicest was prepared,
with some solicitude, and despatched by the
hands of the tidy maid-servant to " Mrs. Thompson."
Probably (I thought) some invalid member
of the household. It was satisfactory,
however, to remark that the appetite of the
suffering lady was yet robust, the viands
supplied being amply sufficient for two!

My hostess seemed to think some explanation
necessary, for, on the last occasion, she
turned to me and said:

"We have been much interested in a new
neighbour of ours, who has, like ourselves, a
dear relation or friend in Australia. We have
taken advantage of that circumstance to tighten
the bonds of acquaintance and close neighbourhood;
for Mrs. Thompson is a charming old
lady, and is, we greatly fear, in want almost of
the necessaries of life. She is lame, moreover,
and never moves out of the humble lodging in
which she resides, except upon the arm of a
faithful old servant who lived with her in (as
she has hinted) far more prosperous days. But
she is good enough to allow us to assist her
housekeeping, and her own kind heart enables
her fully to comprehend the satisfaction it
affords us."