from all the petty jars, the overshadowing clouds no
bigger than a man's hand, forerunners of tempest, which Mr. Fenton had
heard of in many households.

He was never weary of thinking about that life which was to be.
Everything else he thought of was now considered only in relation to that
one subject. He applied himself to business with a new ardour; never
before had he been so anxious to grow rich.

CHAPTER IV.

JOHN SALTRAM.

The offices of Fenton and Co. in Great St. Helens were handsome,
prosperous-looking premises, consisting of two large outer rooms, where
half-a-dozen indefatigable clerks sat upon high stools before ponderous
mahogany desks, and wrote industriously all day long; and an inner and
smaller apartment, where there was a faded Turkey-carpet instead of the
kamptulicon that covered the floor of the outer offices, a couple of
capacious, red-morocco-covered arm-chairs, and a desk of substantial and
somewhat legal design, on which Gilbert Fenton was wont to write the more
important letters of the house. In all the offices there were iron safes,
which gave one a notion of limitless wealth stored away in the shape of
bonds and bills, if not actual gold and bank-notes; and upon all the
walls there were coloured and uncoloured engravings of ships framed and
glazed, and catalogues of merchandise that had been sold, or was to be
sold, hanging loosely one on the other. Besides these, there were a great
many of those flimsy papers that record the state of things on 'Change,
hanging here and there on the brass rails of the desks, from little hooks
in the walls, and in any other available spot. And in all the premises
there was an air of business and prosperity, which seemed to denote that
Fenton and Co. were travelling at a rapid pace on the high-road to
fortune.

Gilbert Fenton sat in the inner office at noon one day about a week after
his return from Lidford. He had come to business early that morning, had
initialed a good many accounts, and written half-a-dozen letters already,
and had thrown himself back in his easy-chair for a few minutes' idle
musing--musing upon that one sweet dream of his new existence, of course.
From whatever point his thoughts started, they always drifted into that
channel.

While he was sitting like this, with his hands in his pockets and his
chair tilted upon its hind legs, the half-glass door opened, and a
gentleman came into the office--a man a little over middle heig