e had nourished was not
unreasonable; his boldness justified itself. Yes, he was one of the men
who succeed, and the life before him would be richer for all the
mistakes and miseries through which he had passed. Thirty, forty,
fifty--why, twenty years hence he would be in the prime of manhood,
with perhaps yet another twenty years of mental and bodily vigour. One
of the men who succeed!

CHAPTER II

On the morning after her journey down from London, Mrs. Warricombe
awoke with the conviction that she had caught a cold. Her health was in
general excellent, and she had no disposition to nurse imaginary
ailments, but when some slight disorder broke the routine of her life
she made the most of it, enjoying--much as children do--the importance
with which for the time it invested her. At such seasons she was wont
to regard herself with a mildly despondent compassion, to feel that her
family and her friends held her of slight account; she spoke in a tone
of conscious resignation, often with a forgiving smile. When the girls
redoubled their attentions, and soothed her with gentle words, she
would close her eyes and sigh, seeming to remind them that they would
know her value when she was no more.

'You are hoarse, mother,' Sidwell said to her, when they met at
breakfast.

'Am I, dear? You know I felt rather afraid of the journey. I hope I
shan't be laid up.'

Sidwell advised her not to leave the house to-day. Having seen the
invalid comfortably established in an upper room, she went into the
city on business which could not be delayed. On her way occurred the
meeting with Peak, but of this, on her return, she made no mention.
Mother and daughter had luncheon upstairs, and Sidwell was full of
affectionate solicitude.

'This afternoon you had better lie down for an hour or two,' she said.

'Do you think so? Just drop a line to father, and warn him that we may
kept here for some time.'

'Shall I send for Dr Endacott?'

'Just as you like, dear.'

But Mrs. Warricombe had eaten such an excellent lunch, that Sidwell
could not feel uneasy.

'We'll see how you are this evening. At all events, it will be safer
for you not to go downstairs. If you lie quiet for an hour or two, I
can look for those pamphlets that father wants.'

'Just as you like, dear.'

By three o'clock the invalid was calmly slumbering. Having entered the
bedroom on tiptoe and heard regular breathing, Sidwell went down and
for a few minutes linger