just friendly to
her. If that had been his attitude in the old days, how could his
self-respect allow him to show the slightest change? In his anxiety not
to do so, he had even fallen short of the former kindness. No
forgiveness was needed, when she felt that she understood him so well.
But all the more did it behove her to make herself worthy of him in all
things. She had still so much to learn; she was so far his inferior in
culture and understanding. Her studies with Miss Hurst were fruitful.
Nor were her domestic duties forgotten. Mr. Woodstock had supplied her
with a good housekeeper, to help her inexperience, but Ida took an
adequate burden on her own shoulders. This again was a new and keen joy.

Waymark dined with them one Sunday in June, and, in the course of the
evening, went with Abraham to the smoking-room for some private
conversation.

"Do you remember," he began, "once offering to buy those shares of
mine?"

"Yes, I do," replied Mr. Woodstock, narrowing his eyes.

"Does the offer still hold good?"

"Yes, yes; if you're anxious to realise."

"I am. I want money--for two purposes."

"What are they?" Abraham asked bluntly.

"One is a private matter, which I don't think I need speak of; but the
other I can explain. I have found a courageous publisher who has
offered to bring my book out if I take a certain risk. This I have made
up my mind to do. I want to get the thing out, if only for the sake of
hearing Mrs. Grundy lift up her voice; and if it can't be otherwise, I
must publish at my own expense."

"Will it repay you?" Mr. Woodstock asked.

"Ultimately, I have no doubt; but I don't care so much about that."

"H'm. I should think that's the chief matter to be considered. And you
won't tell me what the other speculation is?"

"I'm going to lend a friend some money, but I don't wish to go into
detail."

The old man looked at him shrewdly.

"Very well," he said presently. "I'll let you have the cash. Could you
manage to look in at the office to-morrow at mid-day?"

This was arranged, and Waymark rose, but Mr. Woodstock motioned to him
to resume his seat.

"As we're talking," he began, "I may as well have over something that's
on my mind. Why haven't you told Ida yet about that engagement of
yours?"

"Haven't _you_ done so?" Waymark asked, in surprise.

"Did you think I had?"

"Why, yes, I did."

"I've done nothing of the kind," Abraham returned, pretending to be
surprised at the su