all four being directed eagerly up the empty
street. 'You are a fortunate fellow, Downe,' Barnet continued, as mother
and children disappeared from the window to run to the door. 'You must
be happy if any man is. I would give a hundred such houses as my new one
to have a home like yours.'

'Well--yes, we get along pretty comfortably,' replied Downe complacently.

'That house, Downe, is none of my ordering,' Barnet broke out, revealing
a bitterness hitherto suppressed, and checking the horse a moment to
finish his speech before delivering up his passenger. 'The house I have
already is good enough for me, as you supposed. It is my own freehold;
it was built by my grandfather, and is stout enough for a castle. My
father was born there, lived there, and died there. I was born there,
and have always lived there; yet I must needs build a new one.'

'Why do you?' said Downe.

'Why do I? To preserve peace in the household. I do anything for that;
but I don't succeed. I was firm in resisting "Chateau Ringdale,"
however; not that I would not have put up with the absurdity of the name,
but it was too much to have your house christened after Lord Ringdale,
because your wife once had a fancy for him. If you only knew everything,
you would think all attempt at reconciliation hopeless. In your happy
home you have had no such experiences; and God forbid that you ever
should. See, here they are all ready to receive you!'

'Of course! And so will your wife be waiting to receive you,' said
Downe. 'Take my word for it she will! And with a dinner prepared for
you far better than mine.'

'I hope so,' Barnet replied dubiously.

He moved on to Downe's door, which the solicitor's family had already
opened. Downe descended, but being encumbered with his bag and umbrella,
his foot slipped, and he fell upon his knees in the gutter.

'O, my dear Charles!' said his wife, running down the steps; and, quite
ignoring the presence of Barnet, she seized hold of her husband, pulled
him to his feet, and kissed him, exclaiming, 'I hope you are not hurt,
darling!' The children crowded round, chiming in piteously, 'Poor papa!'

'He's all right,' said Barnet, perceiving that Downe was only a little
muddy, and looking more at the wife than at the husband. Almost at any
other time--certainly during his fastidious bachelor years--he would have
thought her a too demonstrative woman; but those recent circumstances of
his own life to whic