to Mr. Brown by Robinson, that that
conversation took place to which allusion has been made in the
opening chapter of these memoirs. Of course, it was necessary that
each member of the firm should provide in some way for his future
necessities. Mr. Jones had signified his intention of opening a small
hairdresser's shop in Gray's Inn Lane. "I was brought up to it once,"
he said, "and it don't require much ready money." Both Mr. Brown and
Robinson knew that he was in possession of money, but it was not now
worth their while to say more about this. The fox had made good his
prey, and who could say where it was hidden?

"And what will you do, George?" asked Mr. Brown.

Then it was that Robinson communicated to them the fact that
application had been made to him by the Editor of a first class
Magazine for a written account of the doings of the firm. "I think it
may be of advantage to commerce in general," the Editor had said with
his customary dignity of expression and propriety of demeanour. "I
quite agree with you," Robinson had replied, "if only the commercial
world of Great Britain can be induced to read the lesson." The Editor
seemed to think that the commercial world of Great Britain did read
the CORNHILL MAGAZINE, and an arrangement was quickly made between
them. Those who have perused the chapter in question will remember
how Robinson yielded when the senior partner pleaded that as they had
been partners so long, they should still be partners to the end; and
how he had yielded again when it was suggested to him that he should
receive some assistance in the literary portion of the work. That
assistance has been given, and George Robinson hopes that it may have
been of advantage.

"I suppose we shall see each other sometimes, George," Maryanne said
to him, when she came down to his little room to bid him farewell.

"I hope we shall, Maryanne."

"I don't suppose we shall ever dance together again at the Hall of
Harmony."

"No, Maryanne, never. That phase of life is for me over. Neither with
you nor with any other fair girl shall I again wanton away the flying
hours. Life is too precious for that; and the work which falls upon a
man's shoulders is too exacting. The Hall of Harmony is for children,
Maryanne;--for grown children, perhaps, but still for children."

"You used to like it, George."

"I did; and could again. So could I again stop with longing mouth at
the window of that pastrycook, whose tarts in earl