,
Jane, now that we've begun. Better tell me all you know, my girl.'

Again there was a long pause; but Mr. Lott had patience, and his dogged
persistency at length overcame the wife's pride. Yes, it was true that
Bowles had lost money at races; he had been guilty of much selfish folly;
but the ruin it had brought upon him would serve as a lesson. He was a
wretched and a penitent man; a few days ago he had confessed everything to
his wife, and besought her to pardon him; at present he was making
desperate efforts to recover an honest footing. The business might still be
carried on if some one could be induced to put a little capital into it;
with that in view, Bowles had gone to see certain relatives of his in the
north. If his hope failed, she did not know what was before them; they had
nothing left now but their clothing and the furniture of one or two rooms.

'Would you like to come back home for a while?' asked Mr. Lott abruptly.

'No, father,' was the not less abrupt reply. 'I couldn't do that.'

'I'll give no money to Bowles.'

'He has never asked you, and never will.'

Mr. Lott glared and glowered, but, with all that, had something in his face
which hinted softness. The dialogue did not continue much longer; it ended
with a promise from Mrs. Bowles to let her father know whether her husband
succeeded or not in re-establishing himself. Thereupon they shook hands
without a word, and Mr. Lott left the house. He returned to the City, and,
it being now nearly two o'clock, made a hearty meal. When he was in the
street again, he remembered the birthday present he wished to buy for his
nephew, and for half an hour he rambled vaguely, staring into shop-windows.
At length something caught his eye; it was a row of riding-whips, mounted
in silver; just the thing, he said to himself, to please a lad who would
perhaps ride to hounds next winter. He stepped in, chose carefully, and
made the purchase. Then, having nothing left to do, he walked at a
leisurely pace towards the railway station.

Mr. Daffy was there before him; they met at the entrance to the platform
from which their train would start.

'Must you go back by this?' asked the tailor. 'My son wasn't at home, and
won't be till about five o'clock. I should be terribly obliged, Mr. Lott,
if you could stay and go to Clapham with me. Is it asking too much?'

The timber-merchant gave a friendly nod, and said it was all the same to
him. Then, in reply to anxious quest