the
boys called it, and where poverty was far less of a disgrace than even a
remote connection with a "shop." The Crudens had always been great
heroes in the eyes of their schoolfellows, for their family was
unimpeachable, and even with others who had greater claims to be
considered as aristocratic, their ample pocket-money commended them as
most desirable companions.

Mr Cruden, however, with all his virtues and respectability, was not a
good man of business. People said he let himself be imposed upon by
others who knew the value of money far better than he did. His own
beautiful estate at Garden Vale, Rumour said, was managed at double the
expense it should be; and of his money transactions and speculations in
the City--well, he had need to be the wealthy man he was, said his
friends, to be able to stand all the fleecing he came in for there!

Nevertheless, no one ever questioned the wealth of the Crudens, least of
all did the Crudens themselves, who took it as much for granted as the
atmosphere they breathed in.

On the day on which our story opens Mr Cruden had driven down into the
City on business. No one knew exactly what the business was, for he
kept such matters to himself. It was an ordinary expedition, which
consisted usually of half a dozen calls on half a dozen stockbrokers or
secretaries of companies, with perhaps an occasional visit to the family
lawyer or the family bank.

To-day, however, it had consisted of but one visit, and that was to the
bank. And it was whilst returning thence that Mr Cruden was suddenly
seized with the stroke which ended in his death. Had immediate
assistance been at hand the calamity might have been averted, but
neither the coachman nor footman was aware of what had happened till the
carriage was some distance on its homeward journey, and a passer-by
caught sight of the senseless figure within. They promptly drove him to
the nearest hospital, and telegraphed the news to Garden Vale; but Mr
Cruden never recovered consciousness, and, as the doctor told Horace,
before even the message could have reached its destination he was dead.

We may draw a veil over the sad scenes of the few days which followed--
of the meeting of the widow and her sons at the bedside of the dead, of
the removal of the loved remains home, of the dismal preparations for
the funeral, and all the dreary details which occupy mourners in the
house of death. For some time Mrs Cruden, prostrated by the