ack at the nearest approach to a home
that he possessed, at his old nurse's cottage at Packworth, with her and
his sister. And now, leaving them, and coming back once more to work in
London, a home-sickness had seized him, and an irresistible craving for
sympathy had prompted him to tell me his secret.

"And it shall be safe with me," I said to myself.

We did not refer to the subject again that day, or for several days.
Indeed, I almost suspected he repented already of what he had done, for
his manner was more reserved and shy than I had ever known it. He
seemed to be in a constant fright lest I should return to the subject,
while his almost deferential manner to me was quite distressing.
However, we had our work to occupy our minds during most of the day.

"Slap bang, here we are again!" cried Doubleday, as we entered the
office together that morning. "What cheer, Bulls'-eye? Awfully sorry
we haven't got the decorations up, but we're out of flags at present.
We're going to illuminate this evening, though, in your honour--when we
light the gas."

"Awfully glad you're back," said Crow. "The governors have been in an
awful way without you to advise them. We've positively done nothing
since you went, have we, Wallop?"

"No--except read his life in the Newgate Calendar," said Wallop, who had
not forgotten his knock down on the day Jack left.

All this Jack, like a sensible man, took quietly, though I could see, or
fancied I saw, he winced at the last reference.

He quietly took his old place, and proceeded to resume his work just as
if he had never been absent, wholly regardless of the witticisms of his
comrades.

"We've drunk his health now and then in his absence, haven't we, Batch,
old man?" said Doubleday again, addressing me.

I did not at all like to be thus drawn into the conversation, but I was
forced to answer. "Yes, now and then."

"Let's see, what was the last sentiment--the other night up at Daly's,
you know; what was it, Crow?"

"Oh, Doubleday!" cried I, suddenly, in terror at the turn the talk was
taking, "would you look at this invoice, please? Only twelve cases are
entered, and I'm certain thirteen were shipped."

"Eh, what?" exclaimed Doubleday, who in business matters was always
prompt and serious; "only twelve entered? how's that? Why, you young
idiot!" said he, taking up the paper; "can't you read what's straight in
front of your nose? `A set of samples, not invoiced, in case Num