rence between a fellow like me and the damned
grinding mechanism that I spend my days in drawing--that roars all day
in my ears and deafens me. I'll put an end to that. Here's four hundred
pounds. It shall mean four hundred pounds'-worth of life. While this
money lasts, I'll feel that I'm a human being."

"Something to be said for that," commented the listener, in his tone of
drowsy impartiality.

"I offered Emily half of it. She didn't want to take it, and the man
Marr wouldn't let her. I offered to lay it aside for the child, but
Marr wouldn't have that either, It's fairly mine."

"Undoubtedly."

"Think! The first time in my life that I've had money on which no one
else had a claim. When the poor old father died, Will and I had to go
shares in keeping up the home. Our sister couldn't earn anything; she
had her work set in attending to her mother. When mother died, and
Marian married, it looked as if I had only myself to look after: then
came Will's death, and half my income went to keep his wife and child
from the workhouse. You know very well I've never grudged it. It's my
faith that we do what we do because anything else would be less
agreeable. It was more to my liking to live on a pound a week than to
see Emily and the little lass suffer want. I've no right to any thanks
or praise for it. But the change has come none too soon. There'd have
been a paragraph in the Dudley paper some rainy morning."

"Yes, I was rather afraid of that," said Narramore musingly.

He let a minute elapse, whilst his friend paced the room; then added in
the same voice:

"We're in luck at the same tune. My uncle Sol was found dead this
morning."

"Do you come in for much?"

"We don't know what he's left, but I'm down for a substantial fraction
in a will he made three years ago. Nobody knew it, but he's been stark
mad for the last six months. He took a bed-room out Bordesley way, in a
false name, and stored it with a ton or two of tinned meats and
vegetables. There the landlady found him lying dead this morning; she
learnt who he was from the papers in his pocket. It's come out that he
had made friends with some old boozer of that neighbourhood; he told
him that England was on the point of a grand financial smash, and that
half the population would die of hunger. To secure himself, he began to
lay in the stock of tinned provisions. One can't help laughing, poor
old chap! That's the result, you see, of a life spent in sweating for