u will let him. All men are alike
impatient and unreasonable in such matters. It is the women who hold
back--after they are safely engaged."

"La, pa! how knowingly you talk!"

"I flatter myself I know something of the human species," returned Mr.
Whedell. "Ah! another ring. Too faint for a creditor. Mr.
Chiffield, perhaps."

CHAPTER II.

PLAYING WITH THE LINE.

The conjecture was correct. But with Mr. Chiffield came Matthew Maltboy.
They had arrived on the door steps at the same moment, coming from
different directions.

Mr. Whedell received Chiffield with his heartiest grip, and inflicted
only a mild squeeze on the hand of Maltboy, whose appearance at that
time he considered decidedly unfortunate. The father thought he had
observed in Clementina signs of preference for that corpulent young
lawyer. He was pained to see that Clementina barely extended the tips of
her fingers to Chiffield, while to Maltboy she gave her whole palm with
great cordiality. Not only this, but she encouraged Maltboy to take a
seat by her, and commenced talking with him of the opera, of balls, of
new music, of fashions, of the last novel, rattling away on these
subjects as if her whole soul were wrapped up in the discussion. It was
almost a monologue. Maltboy's part consisted of "Yes;" "I think so too;"
"We agree perfectly," and adjectives of admiration occasionally thrown
in. That musical voice! He could have listened with rapture to its
recital of the multiplication table.

Mr. Chiffield and Mr. Whedell had settled themselves on a _tete-a-tete_,
and, after some cursory observations on the weather, commenced talking
of finance--a theme of which neither of those gentlemen ever tired.

"So money is getting tighter?" said Mr. Whedell, after a pause to digest
the awful truth which Mr. Chiffield had imparted to him. "Now I
shouldn't be surprised, sir, to hear of failures before long, and in
quarters where the public least expect them."

If Mr. Whedell's double eyeglass had been astride his nose instead of
swinging in his fingers, he might have noticed a faint paleness blending
with the deep yellow of Mr. Chiffield's complexion. That gentleman
replied, a little more quickly than was his wont:

"A few small, weak houses may go down, perhaps, but the strong ones will
weather the storm easy enough. If our establishment could live through
1847, it is in no danger now."

"And such was the good fortune of Upjack, Chiffield & Co., I well