w sank into his
chair.

In that quiet dialogue, ruin had been inflicted and received without any
apparent agitation; ay, and worse than ruin--exposure.

Morland's suspension, on account of money lost by Wardlaw & Son, would at
once bring old Wardlaw to London, and the affairs of the firm would be
investigated, and the son's false system of bookkeeping be discovered.

He sat stupefied awhile, then put on his hat and rushed to his solicitor;
on the way, he fell in with a great talker, who told him there was a
rumor the _Shannon_ was lost in the Pacific.

At this he nearly fainted in the street; and his friend took him back to
his office in a deplorable condition. All this time he had been feigning
anxiety about the _Proserpine,_ and concealing his real anxiety about the
_Shannon._ To do him justice, he lost sight of everything in the world
now but Helen. He sent old Penfold in hot haste to Lloyd's, to inquire
for news of the ship; and then he sat down sick at heart; and all he
could do now was to open her portrait, and gaze at it through eyes
blinded with tears. Even a vague rumor, which he hoped might be false,
had driven all his commercial maneuvers out of him, and made all other
calamities seem small.

And so they all are small, compared with the death of the creature we
love.

While he sat thus, in a stupor of fear and grief, he heard a well-known
voice in the outer office; and, next after Burtenshaw's, it was the one
that caused him the most apprehension. It was his father's.

Wardlaw senior rarely visited the office now; and this was not his hour.
So Arthur knew something extraordinary had brought him up to town. And he
could not doubt that it was the panic, and that he had been to Morland's,
or would go there in course of the day; but, indeed, it was more probable
that he had already heard something, and was come to investigate.

Wardlaw senior entered the room.

"Good-morning, Arthur," said he. "I've got good news for you."

Arthur was quite startled by an announcement that accorded so little with
his expectations.

"Good news--for _me?"_ said he, in a faint, incredulous tone.

"Ay, glorious news! Haven't you been anxious about the _Shannon?_ I have;
more anxious than I would own."

Arthur started up. "The _Shannon!_ God bless you, father."

"She lies at anchor in the Mersey," roared the old man, with all a
father's pride at bringing such good news. "Why, the Rollestons will be
in London at 2:15.