e into being that on succeeding nights,
Marguerite, running her hands over the keys before singing, always said
to Vendale, "Where is my Mr. Joey, please?" and that Vendale always
brought him forth, and stationed him near by. That he should then, when
all eyes were upon him, express in his face the utmost contempt for the
exertions of his friends and confidence in Marguerite alone, whom he
would stand contemplating, not unlike the rhinocerous out of the spelling-
book, tamed and on his hind legs, was a part of the Institution. Also
that when he remained after the singing in his most ecstatic state, some
bold spirit from the back should say, "What do you think of it, Joey?"
and he should be goaded to reply, as having that instant conceived the
retort, "Arter that ye may all on ye get to bed!" These were other parts
of the Institution.

But, the simple pleasures and small jests of Cripple Corner were not
destined to have a long life. Underlying them from the first was a
serious matter, which every member of the patriarchal family knew of, but
which, by tacit agreement, all forbore to speak of. Mr. Wilding's health
was in a bad way.

He might have overcome the shock he had sustained in the one great
affection of his life, or he might have overcome his consciousness of
being in the enjoyment of another man's property; but the two together
were too much for him. A man haunted by twin ghosts, he became deeply
depressed. The inseparable spectres sat at the board with him, ate from
his platter, drank from his cup, and stood by his bedside at night. When
he recalled his supposed mother's love, he felt as though he had stolen
it. When he rallied a little under the respect and attachment of his
dependants, he felt as though he were even fraudulent in making them
happy, for that should have been the unknown man's duty and
gratification.

Gradually, under the pressure of his brooding mind, his body stooped, his
step lost its elasticity, his eyes were seldom lifted from the ground. He
knew he could not help the deplorable mistake that had been made, but he
knew he could not mend it; for the days and weeks went by, and no one
claimed his name or his possessions. And now there began to creep over
him a cloudy consciousness of often-recurring confusion in his head. He
would unaccountably lose, sometimes whole hours, sometimes a whole day
and night. Once, his remembrance stopped as he sat at the head of the
dinner-table,