enough, that young man."

Miss Minchin felt offended. This seemed to be a disparagement of her
best patron and was a liberty.

Even solicitors had no right to take liberties.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Barrow," she said stiffly. "I do not
understand."

"Birthday presents," said Mr. Barrow in the same critical manner, "to a
child eleven years old! Mad extravagance, I call it."

Miss Minchin drew herself up still more rigidly.

"Captain Crewe is a man of fortune," she said. "The diamond mines
alone--"

Mr. Barrow wheeled round upon her. "Diamond mines!" he broke out.
"There are none! Never were!"

Miss Minchin actually got up from her chair.

"What!" she cried. "What do you mean?"

"At any rate," answered Mr. Barrow, quite snappishly, "it would have
been much better if there never had been any."

"Any diamond mines?" ejaculated Miss Minchin, catching at the back of a
chair and feeling as if a splendid dream was fading away from her.

"Diamond mines spell ruin oftener than they spell wealth," said Mr.
Barrow. "When a man is in the hands of a very dear friend and is not a
businessman himself, he had better steer clear of the dear friend's
diamond mines, or gold mines, or any other kind of mines dear friends
want his money to put into. The late Captain Crewe--"

Here Miss Minchin stopped him with a gasp.

"The LATE Captain Crewe!" she cried out. "The LATE! You don't come to
tell me that Captain Crewe is--"

"He's dead, ma'am," Mr. Barrow answered with jerky brusqueness. "Died
of jungle fever and business troubles combined. The jungle fever might
not have killed him if he had not been driven mad by the business
troubles, and the business troubles might not have put an end to him if
the jungle fever had not assisted. Captain Crewe is dead!"

Miss Minchin dropped into her chair again. The words he had spoken
filled her with alarm.

"What WERE his business troubles?" she said. "What WERE they?"

"Diamond mines," answered Mr. Barrow, "and dear friends--and ruin."

Miss Minchin lost her breath.

"Ruin!" she gasped out.

"Lost every penny. That young man had too much money. The dear friend
was mad on the subject of the diamond mine. He put all his own money
into it, and all Captain Crewe's. Then the dear friend ran
away--Captain Crewe was already stricken with fever when the news came.
The shock was too much for him. He died delirious, raving about his
little girl--and didn't leave a pen