nce, taking Maria and
Zo with them. There were associations connected with Fairfield Gardens,
which made the prospect of living there--without even the society of his
children--unendurable to Mr. Gallilee. Ovid's house, still waiting the
return of its master, was open to his step-father. The poor man was only
too glad (in his own simple language) "to keep the nest warm for his
son."

The latest inquiries made at the asylum were hopefully answered.
Thus far, the measures taken to restore Mrs. Gallilee to herself had
succeeded beyond expectation. But one unfavourable symptom remained.
She was habitually silent. When she did speak, her mind seemed to be
occupied with scientific subjects: she never mentioned her husband, or
any other member of the family. Time and attention would remove this
drawback. In two or three months more perhaps, if all went well, she
might return to her family and her friends, as sane a woman as ever.

Calling at Fairfield Gardens for any letters that might be waiting
there, Mr. Gallilee received a circular in lithographed writing;
accompanied by a roll of thick white paper. The signature revealed the
familiar name of Mr. Le Frank.

The circular set forth that the writer had won renown and a moderate
income, as pianist and teacher of music. "A terrible accident, ladies
and gentlemen, has injured my right hand, and has rendered amputation
of two of my fingers necessary. Deprived for life of my professional
resources, I have but one means of subsistence left--_viz:_---collecting
subscriptions for a song of my own composition. N.B.--The mutilated
musician leaves the question of terms in the hands of the art-loving
public, and will do himself the honour of calling to-morrow."

Good-natured Mr. Gallilee left a sovereign to be given to the victim
of circumstances--and then set forth for Lord Northlake's house. He and
Ovid had arranged that Zo was to be taken to see Carmina that day.

On his way through the streets, he was met by Mr. Mool. The lawyer
looked at the song under his friend's arm. "What's that you're taking
such care of?" he asked. "It looks like music. A new piece for the young
ladies--eh?"

Mr. Gallilee explained. Mr. Mool struck his stick on the pavement, as
the nearest available means of expressing indignation.

"Never let another farthing of your money get into that rascal's pocket!
It's no merit of his that the poor old Italian nurse has not made her
appearance in the police repo