r what he could get had gone
off on a new rush to "Simson's Diggings" or the "White Hills." Small
wonder Miss Tilly was left languishing for news of him.

Pricked by the nervous disquietude of those who have to do with the
law, Mahony next repaired to his solicitor's office. But Henry Ocock
was closeted with a more important client. This, Grindle the clerk,
whom he met on the stairs, informed him, with an evident relish, and
with some hidden, hinted meaning in the corners of his shifty little
eyes. It was lost on Mahony, who was not the man to accept hints from a
stranger.

The hour was on lunch-time; Grindle proposed that they should go
together to a legal chop-house, which offered prime value for your
money, and where, over the meal, he would give Mahony the latest news
of his suit. At a loss how to get through the day, the latter followed
him--he was resolved, too, to practise economy from now on. But when he
sat down to a dirty cloth and fly-spotted cruet he regretted his
compliance. Besides, the news Grindle was able to give him amounted to
nothing; the case had not budged since last he heard of it. Worse still
was the clerk's behaviour. For after lauding the cheapness of the
establishment, Grindle disputed the price of each item on the "meenew,"
and, when he came to pay his bill, chuckled over having been able to
diddle the waiter of a penny.

He was plainly one of those who feel the constant need of an audience.
And since there was no office-boy present, for him to dazzle with his
wit, he applied himself to demonstrating to his table-companion what a
sad, sad dog he was.

"Women are the deuce, sir," he asserted, lying back in his chair and
sending two trails of smoke from his nostrils. "The very deuce! You
should hear my governor on the subject! He'd tickle your ears for you.
Look here, I'll give you the tip: this move, you know, to Ballarat,
that he's drivin' at: what'ull you bet me there isn't a woman in the
case? Fact! 'Pon my word there is. And a devilish fine woman, too!" He
shut one eye and laid a finger along his nose. "You won't blow the
gab?--that's why you couldn't have your parleyvoo this morning. When
milady comes to town H. O.'s NON EST as long as she's here. And she
with a hubby of her own, too! What 'ud our old pa say to that, eh?"

Mahony, who could draw in his feelers no further than he had done,
touched the limit of his patience. "My connexion with Mr. Ocock is a
purely business one. I hav