er since you
and I fought our first and last battle at Eton, I have found you a true
sympathiser. So now, is your heart ready to receive the flood of my
sorrows?"

Young Auberly said the latter part of this in a half-jesting tone, but
he was evidently in earnest, so his friend replied by squeezing his hand
warmly, and saying, "Let's hear about it, Fred," while he re-lighted his
pipe.

"You have but a poor lodging here, John," said Auberly, looking round
the room.

Barret turned on his friend a quick look of surprise, and then said,
with a smile:

"Well, I admit that it is not _quite_ equal to a certain mansion in
Beverly Square that I wot of, but it's good enough for a poor clerk in
an insurance office."

"You are right," continued Auberly; "it is _not_ equal to that mansion,
whose upper floors are at this moment a _chevaux-de-frise_ of charcoal
beams and rafters depicted on a dark sky, and whose lower floors are a
fantastic compound of burned bricks and lime, broken boards, and
blackened furniture."

"You don't mean to say there's been a fire?" exclaimed Barret.

"And _you_ don't mean to tell me, do you, that a clerk in a fire
insurance office does not know it?"

"I have been ill for two days," returned Barret, "and have not seen the
papers; but I'm very sorry to hear of it; indeed I am. The house is
insured, of course?"

"I believe it is," replied Fred carelessly; "but _that_ is not what
troubles me."

"No?" exclaimed his friend.

"No," replied the other. "If the house had not been insured my father
has wealth enough in those abominably unpicturesque stores in Tooley
Street to rebuild the whole of Beverly Square if it were burnt down.
The fire costs me not a thought, although, by the way, it nearly cost me
my life, in a vain attempt I made to rescue my poor dear sister Loo--"

"_Vain_ attempt!" exclaimed Barret, with a look of concern.

"Ay, vain, as far as I was concerned; but a noble fireman--a fellow that
would make a splendid model for Hercules in the Life Academy--sprang to
the rescue after me and saved her. God bless him! Dear Loo has got a
severe shake, but the doctors say that we have only to take good care of
her, and she will do well. But to return to my woes. Listen, John, and
you shall hear."

Fred Auberly paused, as though meditating how he should commence.

"You know," said he, "that I am my father's only son, and Loo his only
daughter."

"Yes."

"Well, my father has disin