im, the passages from God's Word
that she had read, and, for the first time in his long life, the sordid
man of business exclaimed, "God be merciful to me, a sinner!"

No other word escaped him, but when, after remaining motionless for a
long time, he removed his hands from his face, the subdued expression
that rested there might have led an observer to believe that the prayer
had been answered.

A knock at the office-door caused him to start and endeavour to resume
his ordinary professional expression and composure as he said, "Come
in."

Harry Boyns, however, had not waited for the answer. He was already in
the room, hat in hand.

"Now, sir," he said, eagerly, "are you ready to start? The train leaves
in half an hour, and we must not risk losing it _to-day_."

"Losing it!" said Mr Webster, as he rose and slowly put on his
greatcoat, assisted by Harry, "why, it just takes me five minutes to
walk to the station. How do you propose to spend the remaining
twenty-five?--But I say, Harry," he added with a peculiar smile, "how
uncommonly spruce you are to-day!"

"Not an unusual condition for a man to be in on his wedding-day,"
retorted Harry; "and I am sure that I can return you the compliment with
interest!"

This was true, for Mr Webster had "got himself up" that morning with
elaborate care. His morning coat still smelt of the brown paper in
which it had come home. His waistcoat was immaculately white. His
pearl-grey trousers were palpably new. His lavender kid-gloves were
painfully clean. His patent-leather boots were glitteringly black, and
his _tout ensemble_ such as to suggest the idea that a band-box was his
appropriate and native home.

"Don't be impatient, boy," he said, putting some books into an iron
safe, "I must attend to business first, you know."

"You have no right to attend to business at all, after making it over to
me, as you formally did yesterday," said Harry. "If you come here
again, sir, and meddle with my department, I shall be compelled to
dissolve partnership at once!"

"Please, sir," said Mr Grinder, appearing suddenly at the door, in a
costume which was remarkable for its splendour and the badness of its
fit--for Grinder's was a figure that no ordinary tailor could
understand, "Captain Daniel Boyns is at the door."

"Send him in," said Webster.

"He won't come, sir; he's afraid of being late for the train."

"Well, well," said Webster, with a laugh, "come along. Are you