o: that
old gold shall not be wasted on a--"

STORY TWO, CHAPTER NINE.

MR BARCLAY GOES TOO FAR.

When young Mr Barclay--

Stop! How do I know all this?

Why, it was burned into my memory, and I heard every word from him.

When young Mr Barclay left the dining-room on the night he disappeared,
he went up to his own room, miserable at his position with his father,
and taking to himself the blame for the unhappiness that he had brought
upon the girl who loved him with all her sweet true heart. "But it's
fate--it's fate," he said, as he went up to his room; and then, unable
to settle himself there, he lit a cigar, came down, and went out just as
he was dressed in his evening clothes, only that he had put on a light
overcoat, and began to walk up and down in front of our house and watch
the windows opposite, to try and catch a glimpse of Miss Adela.

Ten o'clock, eleven, struck, but she did not show herself at the window;
and feeling quite sick at heart, he was thinking of going in again, when
he suddenly heard a faint cough, about twenty yards away; and turning
sharply, he saw the lady he was looking for crossing the road, having
evidently just come back from some visit.

"Adela--at last," he whispered as he caught her hand.

"Mr Drinkwater!" she cried in a startled way. "How you frightened me!"

"Love makes men fools," said Mr Barclay, as he slipped into her home
ere she could close the door. "Now take me in and introduce me to your
sisters."

"Adela, is that you? Here, for goodness' sake. Why don't you answer?"

"Is she there?"

The first was a rough man's voice, the next that of a woman, and as they
were heard in the passage, another voice cried hoarsely: "It's of no
use: the game's up."

"Hist! Hide! Behind that curtain! Anywhere!" panted Adela, starting
up in alarm. "Too late!"

Barclay had sprung to his feet, and stood staring in amazement, and
perfectly heedless of the girl's appeal to him to hide, as two rough
bricklayer-like men came in, followed by a woman.

"Will you let me pass?" cried Mr Barclay.--"Miss Mimpriss, I beg your
pardon for this intrusion. Forgive me, and good-night."

One man gave the other a quick look, and as Mr Barclay tried to pass,
they closed with him, and, in spite of his struggles, bore him back from
the door. The next moment, though, he recovered his lost ground, and
would have shaken himself free, but the sour-looking woman who had
entered with the tw