ly the case with people of
untrained ear, he had never much cared for this instrument; he
preferred the piano. Not long ago he would have thought it impossible
that he could ever come to dislike music, which throughout his life had
been to him a solace and an inspiration; but now he began to shrink
from the sound of it. As Alma practised in the morning, he was driven
at length to alter his habits, and to leave home after breakfast.
Having no other business, he went to Westminster Bridge Road, met Cecil
Morphew at the shop, watched the progress of alterations that seemed
advisable, picked up a little knowledge of photography, talked over
prices, advertisements, and numerous commercial matters of which he had
hitherto been contentedly ignorant. Before long, his loan to Morphew
was converted into an investment; he became a partner in the concern,
which, retaining the name of the old proprietor, they carried on as Den
bow & Co.

The redemption of his debentures kept him still occupied with a furtive
study of the money-market. He did not dare to face risk on a large
scale; the mere thought of a great reduction of income made him tremble
and perspire. So in the end he adopted the simple and straightforward
expedient of seeking an interview with his banker, by whom he was
genially counselled to purchase such-and-such stock, a sound security,
but less productive than that he had previously held. An unfortunate
necessity, seeing that his expenses increased and were likely to do so.
But he tried to hope that Westminster Bridge Road would eventually
reimburse him. With good luck, it might do more.

His days of quietude were over. He, too, was being drawn into the
whirlpool. No more dreaming among his books; no more waking to the
ordinary duties and cares of a reasonable life. As a natural
consequence of the feeling of unsettlement, of instability, he had
recourse more often than he wished to the old convivial habits,
gathering about him once again, at club or restaurant, the kind of
society in which he always felt at ease--good, careless, jovial, and
often impecunious fellows, who, as in days gone by, sometimes made a
demand upon his purse which he could not resist, though he had now such
cause for rigid economy. Was it that he grew old?--he could no longer
take his wine with disregard of consequence. The slightest excess, and
too surely he paid for it on the morrow, not merely with a passing
headache, but with a whole day's mis