" The tradesman felt
compelled, in justice to himself, to appeal to Mr. Gallilee, as master
of the house (!). It was impossible for him (he submitted with the
greatest respect) to accept a payment, which did not amount to one-third
of the sum owing to him for more than a twelvemonth. "Wretch!" cried
Mrs. Gallilee. "I'll settle his bill, and never employ him again!" She
opened her cheque-book, and dipped her pen in the ink. A faint voice
meekly protested. Mr. Gallilee was on his legs again. Mr. Gallilee said.
"Please don't!"

His incredible rashness silenced his wife. There he stood; his
round eyes staring at the cheque-book, his fat cheeks quivering with
excitement. "You mustn't do it," he said, with a first and last outburst
of courage. "Give me a minute, my dear--oh, good gracious, give me a
minute!"

He searched in his pocket again, and produced another letter. His
eyes wandered towards the door; drops of perspiration oozed out on his
forehead. He laid the second letter on the table; he looked at his wife,
and--ran out of the room.

Mrs. Gallilee opened the second letter. Another dissatisfied tradesman?
No: creditors far more formidable than the grocer and the butcher.
An official letter from the bankers, informing Mr. Gallilee that "the
account was overdrawn."

She seized her pass-book, and her paper of calculations. Never yet had
her rigid arithmetic committed an error. Column by column she revised
her figures--and made the humiliating discovery of her first mistake.
She had drawn out all, and more than all, the money deposited in the
bank; and the next half-yearly payment of income was not due until
Christmas.

There was but one thing to be done--to go at once to the bank. If Ovid
had not been in the wilds of Canada, Mrs. Gallilee would have made her
confession to him without hesitation. As it was, the servant called a
cab, and she made her confession to the bankers.

The matter was soon settled to her satisfaction. It rested (exactly as
Miss Minerva had anticipated) with Mr. Gallilee. In the house, he might
abdicate his authority to his heart's content. Out of the house, in
matters of business, he was master still. His "investments" represented
excellent "security;" he had only to say how much he wanted to borrow,
and to sign certain papers--and the thing was done.

Mrs. Gallilee went home again, with her pecuniary anxieties at rest for
the time. The carriage was waiting for her at the door.

Should sh