ot; and in
Islington five pounds would more than cover the whole expense. When, pray,
was he likely to have such a sum at his free disposal?

He sighed deeply, and stared about him in the dusk.

The cheque was crossed. For the first time in his life Mr. Tymperley
perceived that the crossing of a cheque may occasion its recipient a great
deal of trouble. How was he to get it changed? He knew his landlord for a
suspicious curmudgeon, and refusal of the favour, with such a look as Mr.
Suggs knew how to give, would be a sore humiliation; besides, it was very
doubtful whether Mr. Suggs could make any use of the cheque himself. To
whom else could he apply? Literally, to no one in London.

'Well, the first thing to do was to answer Mrs. Weare's letter. He lit his
lamp and sat down at the crazy little deal table; but his pen dipped
several times into the ink before he found himself able to write.

'Dear Mrs. Weare,'--

Then, so long a pause that he seemed to be falling asleep. With a jerk, he
bent again to his task.

'With sincere gratitude I acknowledge the receipt of your most kind
and generous donation. The money...'

(Again his hand lay idle for several minutes.)

'shall be used as you wish, and I will render to you a detailed
account of the benefits conferred by it.'

Never had he found composition so difficult. He felt that he was expressing
himself wretchedly; a clog was on his brain. It cost him an exertion of
physical strength to conclude the letter. When it was done, he went out,
purchased a stamp at a tobacconist's shop, and dropped the envelope into
the post.

Little slumber had Mr. Tymperley that night. On lying down, he began to
wonder where he should find the poor people worthy of sharing in this
benefaction. Of course he had no acquaintance with the class of persons of
whom Mrs. Weare was thinking. In a sense, all the families round about were
poor, but--he asked himself--had poverty the same meaning for them as for
him? Was there a man or woman in this grimy street who, compared with
himself, had any right to be called poor at all? An educated man forced to
live among the lower classes arrives at many interesting conclusions with
regard to them; one conclusion long since fixed in Mr. Tymperley's mind was
that the 'suffering' of those classes is very much exaggerated by outsiders
using a criterion quite inapplicable. He saw around him a world of coarse
jollity, of contented labour,