ly conscious; but he knew of nothing
that he need conceal.

It was impossible that Sidney should not have reflected many a time on
Michael Snowdon's position, and have been moved to curiosity by hints
of the mysterious when he thought of his friends in Hanover Street. As
it happened, he never saw those newspaper advertisements addressed to
Joseph, and his speculation had nothing whatever to support it save the
very few allusions to the past which Michael had permitted himself in
the course of talk. Plainly the old man had means sufficient for his
support, end in all likelihood this independence was connected with his
visit to Australia; but no act or word of Michael's had ever suggested
that he possessed more than a very modest competency. It was not,
indeed, the circumstances, so much as the character and views, of his
friend that set Kirkwood pondering. He did not yet know Michael
Snowdon; of that he was convinced. He had not fathomed his mind, got at
the prime motive of his being. Moreover, he felt that the old man was
waiting for some moment, or some event, to make revelation of himself.
Since Joseph's appearance, it had become more noticeable than ever that
Snowdon suffered from some agitation of the mind; Sidney had met his
eyes fixed upon him in a painful interrogation, and seemed to discern
the importunity of a desire that was refused utterance. His own
condition was affected by sympathy with this restlessness, and he could
not overcome the feeling that some decisive change was at hand for him.
Though nothing positive justified the idea, he began to connect this
anticipation of change with the holiday that was approaching, the week
to be spent in Essex at the end of July. It had been his fear that
Joseph's presence might affect these arrangements, but Michael was
evidently resolved to allow nothing of the kind. One evening, a
fortnight before the day agreed upon for leaving town, and when Joseph
had made a call in Hanover Street, the old man took occasion to speak
of the matter. Joseph accepted the information with his usual pliancy.

'I only wish my wife and me could join you,' he remarked. 'But it
wouldn't do to take a holiday so soon after settling to business.
Better luck for me next year, father, let's hope.'

That he had settled to business was a fact of which Joseph made so much
just now that one would have been tempted to suppose it almost a new
experience for him. His engagement, he declared, was with