mphs, and, if
by any evil chance he should ever have any, his sorrows."

There were rounds of applause. Every one stood up and held out their
glasses towards him, and Jacob was forced back again into this very
real world of men and women made comfortable in their daily lives by
his efforts. He said his few words of thanks simply but gracefully
and, in accordance with the programme of the day, they trooped out
afterwards to the lawn in front of the freshly plastered clubhouse and
drank their coffee at small round tables, looking down the course,
discussing the various holes, and making matches for the next Saturday
afternoon and Sunday. A girl at the adjoining table leaned over and
asked him a question.

"Do you know what has become of the Bultiwells, Mr. Pratt?" she
enquired.

"Mrs. Bultiwell, I believe, went to stay with some relatives in
Devonshire," he replied. "The last I heard of Miss Bultiwell was that
she had taken a position as governess somewhere near Belgrave Square."

"A governess!" his questioner repeated. "Fancy her not being married!
Don't you think she's awfully pretty, Mr. Pratt?"

"I do," Jacob agreed.

"And so good at tennis, too," the girl continued. "I wish she'd come
back."

"Quite a tragical story, her father's death," a man at the same table
observed. "I don't know whether you ever heard about it, Mr. Pratt. He
was a leather merchant in a very large way in the city, but got into
difficulties somehow. His one hope was that a friend who had a lot of
money would come into partnership with him. It seems that the friend
not only refused to do so when the moment came, but was rather rough
on poor old Bultiwell about the way he had been conducting his
business--so much so that he blew out his brains in the office, an
hour or so after their interview."

"How brutal of the friend!" the girl observed. "He might have let him
down gently. You wouldn't do a thing like that, would you, Mr. Pratt?"

Jacob opened his lips to tell the truth, but closed them again. After
all, why should he say a single word to mar the pervading impression
of good-heartedness and happiness? The man was so anxious to improve
his acquaintance with Jacob; the girl, who had moved her chair as
though unconsciously a little closer to his, even more so. He met the
smiling question in her eyes a little gravely but with no lack of
friendliness.

"One never knows quite what one would do under certain circumstances,"
he said. "If