thankfully
rejected--and we were led to hope that the Colonel, having still his
pension secured to him, which the law could not touch, might live
comfortably enough the retirement to which, of course, he would betake
himself, when the melancholy proceedings consequent on the bankruptcy
were brought to an end. It was shown that he had been egregiously duped
in the transaction--that his credulity had cost him and his family
a large fortune--that he had given up every penny which belonged
to him--that there could not be any sort of stain upon his honest
reputation. The judge before whom he appeared spoke with feeling and
regard of the unhappy gentleman--the lawyer who examined him respected
the grief and fall of that simple old man. Thomas Newcome took a little
room near the court where his affairs and the affairs of the company
were adjudged--lived with a frugality which never was difficult to
him--And once when perchance I met him in the City, avoided me, with
a bow and courtesy that was quite humble, though proud and somehow
inexpressibly touching to me. Fred Bayham was the only person whom he
admitted. Fred always faithfully insisted upon attending him in and out
of court. J. J. came to me immediately after he heard of the disaster,
eager to place all his savings at the service of his friends. Laura and
I came to London, and were urgent with similar offers. Our good friend
declined to see any of us. F. B., again, with tears trickling on his
rough cheeks, and a break in his voice, told me he feared that affairs
must be very bad indeed, for the Colonel absolutely denied himself a
cheroot to smoke. Laura drove to his lodgings and took him a box, which
was held up to him as he came to open the door to my wife's knock by our
smiling little boy, He patted the child on his golden head and kissed
him. My wife wished he would have done as much for her--but he would
not--though she owned she kissed his hand. He drew it across his eyes
and thanked her in a very calm and stately manner--but he did not invite
her within the threshold of his door, saying simply, that such a room
was not a fit place to receive a lady, "as you ought to know very well,
Mrs. Smith," he said to the landlady, who had accompanied my wife up the
stairs. "He will eat scarcely anything," the woman told us, "his meals
come down untouched; his candles are burning all night, almost, as he
sits poring over his papers."

"He was bent--he who used to walk so uprig