superficial grin, there was, as clear as
day, the natural expression of the soul that would not blend with any show
of pleasantry. Abraham wished to give the attendant half-a-crown as soon
as possible. He dared not offer it without a reason, so he dropped his
umbrella, and, like a generous man, rewarded the honest fellow who stooped
to pick it up. This preliminary over, and, as it were, so much of dirt
swept from the very threshold, he gave his card, announced himself as Mr
Allcraft, banker, and desired to see the lady on especial business. He was
admitted. The ugliest of dresses did not detract from the perfect beauty
of the widowed Margaret; the bitterest of griefs had not removed the bloom
still ripening on her cheek. Time and sorrow were most merciful. The wife
and widow looked yet a girl blushing in her teens. Abraham Allcraft gazed
upon the lady, as he bowed his artful head, with admiration and delight,
and then he threw one hurried and involuntary glance around the gorgeous
room in which she sat, and then he made his own conclusions, and assumed
an air of condolence and affectionate regard, as the wolf is said to do in
fables, just before he pounces on the lamb and strangles it.

The villain sighed.

"Sad time, madam," he said, in a lugubrious tone--"sad time. _Strangers_
feel it."

Margaret held down her face.

"I should have come before, madam, if propriety had not restrained me. I
have only a few hours which I can take from business, but these belong to
the afflicted and the poor."

"You are very kind, sir."

"I beg you, Mrs Mildred, not to mention it. It was a great shock to me to
hear of Mr Mildred's death--a man in the prime of life. So very good--so
much respected."

"He was too good for this world, sir."

"Much, madam--very much; and what a consolation for you, that he is gone
to a better--one more deserving of him. You will feel this more as you
find your duties recalling you to active usefulness again."

The lady shook her head despairingly.

"I hope, madam, we may be permitted to do all we can to alleviate your
forlorn condition. I am one of many who regard you with the deepest
sympathy. You may have heard my name, perhaps."

The lady bowed.

"You _must_ be very dull here," exclaimed the wily Abraham, gazing round
him with the internal consciousness that the death of every soul he knew
would not make _him_ dull in such a paradise--"very dull, I am sure!"

"It was a cheerful home while