er mother had anticipated, the invisible
cords which bound her to the moribund old miser were tightening their
hold more and more, she often looked back and wondered at the sort of
numbness which stole over her spirit during this time of trial.

September was now in its first week; the weather was wet and cold; and
Katherine was thankful when Mr. Newton's weekly visit was due. It was
particularly stormy that day, and he was a little later than usual.

When she had left solicitor and client together for some time, she
descended, as was her custom, to make a cup of tea for the former, and
give her uncle his beef tea or jelly.

Mr. Newton rose, shook hands with her, and then resumed his conversation
with Mr. Liddell.

"I do not for a moment mean to say that he is a reckless bettor or a
mere gambling horse-racer; and, after all, to enter a horse or two for
the local races, or even Newmarket, is perfectly allowable in a man of
his fortune--it will neither make him nor mar him."

"It _will_ mar him," returned Mr. Liddell, in more energetic tones than
Katherine had heard him utter since he was laid up. "A man who believes
he is rich enough to throw away money is on the brink of ruin. He
appears to me in a totally different light. I thought he was steady,
thoughtful, alive to the responsibility of his position. Ah, who is to
be trusted? Who?"

There seemed no reply to this, for Mr. Newton started a new and
absorbing topic.

"Mr. Fergusson is keeping wonderfully well," he remarked. "His sister
was calling on my wife yesterday, and says that since he took this new
food--'Revalenta Arabica,' I think it is called--he is quite a new man."

"What food is that?" asked Mr. Liddell. While Newton explained,
Katherine reflected with some wonder on the fact that there was a Mrs.
Newton; it had never come to her knowledge before. She tried to imagine
the precise lawyer in love. How did he propose? Surely on paper, in the
most strictly legal terms! Could he ever have felt the divine joy and
exultation which loving and being loved must create? Had he little
children? and oh! did he, could he, ever dance them on his knee? He was
a good man, she was sure, but goodness so starched and ironed was a
little appalling.

These fancies lasted till the description of Revalenta Arabica was
ended; then Mr. Liddell said, "Tell my niece where to get it." Never had
he called her niece before; even Mr. Newton looked surprised. "I will
send you the