e business might have been worse, everything seemed to
promise unbroken domestic tranquillity, when one fine day Mr. Clover
was again missing. Again he sent letters and money, the former written
in a strangely mingled mood of grief and hopefulness, the remittance
varying from half a sovereign to a ten-pound note. This time the
letters were invariably posted in London, but in different districts.
Clover declared that he was miserable away from home, and, without
offering any reason for his behaviour, promised that he would soon
return.

Six years had since elapsed. To afford herself occupation Mrs. Clover
went into the glass and china business, assisted by her parents'
experience, and by the lively interest of her friend Mr. Gammon. Minnie
Clover, a pretty and interesting girl, was now employed at Doulton's
potteries. All would have been well but for the harassing mystery that
disturbed their lives. Clover's letters were still posted in London;
money still came from him, sometimes in remittances of as much as
twenty pounds. But handwriting and composition often suggested that the
writer was either ill or intoxicated. The latter seemed not unlikely,
for Clover had always inclined to the bottle. His wife no longer
distressed herself. The first escapade she had forgiven; the second
estranged her. She had resolved, indeed, that if her husband did again
present himself his home should not be under her roof.

The shop closed at eight. At a quarter past the house-bell rang and a
small servant admitted Mr. Gammon, who came along the passage and into
the back parlour, where Mrs. Clover was wont to sit. As usual at this
hour her daughter was present. Minnie sat reading; she rose for a
moment to greet the visitor, spoke a word or two very modestly, even
shyly, and let her eyes fall again upon the book. Considering the
warmth of the day it was not unnatural that Mr. Gammon showed a very
red face, shining with moisture; but his decided hilarity, his tendency
to hum tunes and beat time with his feet, his noisy laughter and
expansive talk, could hardly be attributed to the same cause. Having
taken a seat near Minnie he kept his look steadily fixed upon her, and
evidently discoursed with a view of affording her amusement; not
altogether successfully it appeared, for the young girl--she was but
seventeen--grew more and more timid, less and less able to murmur
replies. She was prettier than her mother had ever been, and spoke with
a bet