Could we not manage to get her a situation of some sort with light work
and good pay?"

"Ah! a fireman's, for instance," cried Willie, with a sarcastic laugh;
"did you ever hear of a situation with light work and good pay except
under Government? _I_ never did; but we might perhaps find _steady_
work and good pay. It would only be required for a time, because I mean
to--ah, well, no matter--but how and where is it to be got? Good Mr
Tippet is of no use, because he is mad."

"Mad, Willie!"

"Ay, mad as a March hare. For years back I have suspected it, but now,
I am sure of it; in fact I feel that I have gradually come to be his
keeper--but more of that anon. Meanwhile, what is to be done for the
Cattleys?"

"Could nothing be done with Mr Auberly?"

Willie shook his head.

"No, I fear not. He was in a soft state once--long ago--six or seven
years now, I think--when the dear fairy was ill and he seemed as if he
were going to become a man; but his daughter Loo had just begun to be
ill at that time. She's been so long ill now that he has got used to
it, and has relapsed again into an oyster."

"He might be reached through Loo yet," said Frank.

"Perhaps," replied Willie, "but I doubt it, for he's a blunt old fellow
in his feelings, however sharp he may be in his business; besides, Loo
is so weak now that very few are allowed to see her except Ziza, and
Miss Tippet, and Emma Ward."

The brothers remained silent after this for some time, for neither of
them could see his way out of their difficulties; at last Frank
suggested that Willie should go home and consult his mother.

"She is wise, Willie, and has never given us bad advice yet."

"I know what her first advice will be," said Willie.

"What?" asked Frank.

"To go and pray about it," answered Willie.

"Well, she might give worse advice than that," said Frank, with much
earnestness. "In fact, I doubt if she could give better."

"True," assented Willie, "and now, old fellow, I'm off. Mr Tippet
likes punctuality. I'll look in at the station in passing if anything
turns up to clear my mind on these matters; meanwhile good-bye."

It is a remarkable fact that Frank Willders took an early walk, as
frequently as possible, in Kensington Gardens, near the pond, after this
conversation with his brother, and it is a still more remarkable fact,
that he always felt like a guilty man on these occasions, as if he were
taking some mean advantage of some one;