rd by answer, and an inaudible
something died drily in his throat. When his companion began to speak
again, the bankrupt merchant wondered that he made no comment on his
ghastly face--he knew his face was ghastly--or his shaking hands. There
was an intuition in his mind so strong and clear that he trembled at its
prophecy.

'Patty,' said the visitor, 'will have everything in time, and a pretty
good handful, too. But she's bent on being independent, and she wants to
have her own money in her own hands. She pretends it's all because she
wants to pay her milliner's bills, and that kind of thing, herself; but
I know better. The fact is'--he lowered his voice and chuckled--'the
fact is, she doesn't want me to know how much she spends in charity. You
look here, Bommaney'--the merchant's heart seemed to stand still, and
then to beat so wild an alarum that he wondered the other did not hear
it The intuition multiplied in strength. He heard beforehand the spoken
words, the very tones which marked them. 'You're a safe man, you're a
smart man. I suppose there isn't anybody in London who can lay out money
to more advantage than you can. I know it's a great favour to ask, but
I think you'll do it for Patty's sake and mine, if I do ask you. Take
this, and invest it for her. Will you, now?'

He stood up with the bundle of notes outstretched in his hand. The
merchant rose and accepted it, and looked him, with a sudden curious
calm and steadiness, straight in the face.

II

Mr. Bommaney was alone again, and if it had not been for the actual
presence of the bundle of bank-notes upon the table, he could well have
thought that the whole episode had been no more than a dreadful and
disturbing dream. It was very hard, he thought complainingly, that a man
should come and put so horrible a temptation in his way. He would not
yield to it--of course he would not yield to it. He had been an honest
and honourable man all his life long, and had never so much as felt a
monetary temptation until now. It was humiliating to feel it now--it
was horrible to have his fingers itching for another man's money, and
his heart coveting it, and his brain, in spite of himself, devising
countless means of use for it. It was quite unbearable to know that
the money _might_ tide him over his troubles and land him in prosperity
again, if he could only dare to use it, and risk engulfing it with the
lost wreckage of his own fortunes.

But no, no, no. He had