ed formed a veritable town, with a real mayor and
corporation, and a staple manufacture.

During a certain damp evening five-and-thirty years ago, before the
twilight was far advanced, a pedestrian of professional appearance,
carrying a small bag in his hand and an elevated umbrella, was descending
one of these hills by the turnpike road when he was overtaken by a
phaeton.

'Hullo, Downe--is that you?' said the driver of the vehicle, a young man
of pale and refined appearance. 'Jump up here with me, and ride down to
your door.'

The other turned a plump, cheery, rather self-indulgent face over his
shoulder towards the hailer.

'O, good evening, Mr. Barnet--thanks,' he said, and mounted beside his
acquaintance.

They were fellow-burgesses of the town which lay beneath them, but though
old and very good friends, they were differently circumstanced. Barnet
was a richer man than the struggling young lawyer Downe, a fact which was
to some extent perceptible in Downe's manner towards his companion,
though nothing of it ever showed in Barnet's manner towards the
solicitor. Barnet's position in the town was none of his own making; his
father had been a very successful flax-merchant in the same place, where
the trade was still carried on as briskly as the small capacities of its
quarters would allow. Having acquired a fair fortune, old Mr. Barnet had
retired from business, bringing up his son as a gentleman-burgher, and,
it must be added, as a well-educated, liberal-minded young man.

'How is Mrs. Barnet?' asked Downe.

'Mrs. Barnet was very well when I left home,' the other answered
constrainedly, exchanging his meditative regard of the horse for one of
self-consciousness.

Mr. Downe seemed to regret his inquiry, and immediately took up another
thread of conversation. He congratulated his friend on his election as a
council-man; he thought he had not seen him since that event took place;
Mrs. Downe had meant to call and congratulate Mrs. Barnet, but he feared
that she had failed to do so as yet.

Barnet seemed hampered in his replies. 'We should have been glad to see
you. I--my wife would welcome Mrs. Downe at any time, as you know . . .
Yes, I am a member of the corporation--rather an inexperienced member,
some of them say. It is quite true; and I should have declined the
honour as premature--having other things on my hands just now, too--if it
had not been pressed upon me so very heartily.'

'There is one