er; the early hour of study had kept his mind pleasantly active
whilst his breakfast appetite sharpened itself. Never was man less
prepared to receive startling intelligence.

He read, then raised his eyes and let them stray from the papers on the
table to the wax-fruit before the window, thence to the young leafage
of the trees around the Baptist Chapel. He was like a man whose face had
been overflashed by lightning. He read again, then, holding the letter
behind him, closed his right hand upon his beard with thoughtful
tension. He read a third time, then returned the letter to its envelope,
put it in his pocket, and sat down again to his book.

He was summoned to breakfast in ten minutes. His mother was alone in
the kitchen; she gave him his bloater and his cup of coffee, and he cut
himself a solid slice of bread and butter.

'Was the letter for you?' she asked.

He replied with a nod, and fell patiently to work on the dissection of
his bony delicacy. In five minutes Henry approached the table with a
furtive glance at his elder brother. But Richard had no remark to make.
The meal proceeded in silence.

When Richard had finished, he rose and said to his mother--

'Have you that railway-guide I brought home a week ago?'

'I believe I have somewhere. Just look in the cupboard.'

The guide was found. Richard consulted it for a few moments.

'I have to go out of London,' he then observed. 'It's just possible I
shan't get back to-night.'

A little talk followed about the arrangements of the day, and whether
anyone was likely to be at home for dinner. Richard did not show much
interest in the matter; he went upstairs whistling, and changed the
clothing he wore for his best suit. In a quarter of an hour he had left
the house.

He did not return till the evening of the following day. It was presumed
that he had gone 'after a job.'

When he reached home his mother and Alice were at tea. He walked to
the kitchen fireplace, turned his back to it, and gazed with a peculiar
expression at the two who sat at table.

'Dick's got work,' observed Alice, after a glance at him. 'I can see
that in his face.'.

'Have you, Dick?' asked Mrs. Mutimer.

'I have. Work likely to last.'

'So we'll hope,' commented his mother. 'Where is it?'

'A good way out of London. Pour me a cup, mother. Where's 'Arry?'

'Gone out, as usual.'

'And why are you having tea with your hat on, Princess?'

'Because I'm in a hurry, if you must