hot
across his brain some reminiscence of Mary Lawrie, and a comparison
between her and her life and the sort of life which a man must lead
under the auspices of Mrs Tookey. Mary Lawrie was altogether beyond
his reach; but it would be better to have her to think of than the
other to know. His idea of the diamond-fields was disturbed by the
promised return of his late partner and his wife.

"And you mean to reduce me to this misery?" asked Mr Tookey.

"I don't care a straw for your misery."

"What!"

"Not for your picture of your misery. I do not doubt but that when
you have been there for a month you will be drunk as often as ever,
and just as free with your fists when a woman comes in your way."

"Never!"

"And I do not see that I am at all bound to provide for you and for
your wife and children. You have seen many ups and downs, and will be
doomed to see many more, as long as you can get hold of a bottle of
wine."

"I mean to take the pledge,--I do indeed. I must do it gradually,
because of my constitution,--but I shall do it."

"I don't in the least believe in it;--nor do I believe in any man
who thinks to redeem himself after such a fashion. It may still be
possible that I shall not go back."

"Thank God!"

"I may kill beasts in Buenos Ayres, or take a tea-farm in Thibet, or
join the colonists in Tennessee. In that case I will let you know
what arrangement I may propose to make about the Kimberley claim. At
any rate, I may say this,--I shall not go back in the same vessel
with you."

"I thought it would have been so comfortable."

"You and Mrs Tookey would find yourself more at your ease without
me."

"Not in the least. Don't let that thought disturb you. Whatever
misery fate may have in store for me, you will always find that, for
the hour, I will endeavour to be a good companion. 'Sufficient for
the day is the evil thereof.' That is the first of my mottoes."

"At any rate, I shall not go back in the _Kentucky Castle_ if you
do."

"I'm afraid our money is paid."

"So is mine; but that does not signify. You have a week yet, and I
will let you know by eleven o'clock on Thursday what steps I shall
finally take. If in any way I can serve you, I will do so; but I can
admit no claim."

"A thousand thanks! And I am so glad you approve of what I have done
about Matilda. I'm sure that a steady-going fellow like you would
have done the same." To this John Gordon could make no answer, but
left his fr