fully preserved an
evening-suit, with the appropriate patent-leather shoes. Many a time had he
been sorely tempted to sell these seeming superfluities; more than once,
towards the end of his pinched quarter, the suit had been pledged for a few
shillings; but to part with the supreme symbol of respectability would have
meant despair--a state of mind alien to Mr. Tymperley's passive fortitude.
His jewellery, even watch and chain, had long since gone: such gauds are
not indispensable to a gentleman's outfit. He now congratulated himself on
his prudence, for the meeting with Mrs. Charman had delighted as much as it
embarrassed him, and the prospect of an evening in society made his heart
glow. He hastened home; he examined his garb of ceremony with anxious care,
and found no glaring defect in it. A shirt, a collar, a necktie must needs
be purchased; happily he had the means. But how explain himself? Could he
confess his place of abode, his startling poverty? To do so would be to
make an appeal to the compassion of his old friends, and from that he
shrank in horror. A gentleman will not, if-it can possibly be avoided,
reveal circumstances likely to cause pain. Must he, then, tell or imply a
falsehood. The whole truth involved a reproach of Mrs. Charman's husband--a
thought he could not bear.

The next evening found him still worrying over this dilemma. He reached
Mrs. Charman's house without having come to any decision. In the
drawing-room three persons awaited him: the hostess, with her daughter and
son-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Weare. The cordiality of his reception moved him
all but to tears; overcome by many emotions, he lost his head. He talked at
random; and the result was so strange a piece of fiction, that no sooner
had he evolved it than he stood aghast at himself.

It came in reply to the natural question where he was residing.

'At present'--he smiled fatuously--'I inhabit a bed-sitting-room in a
little street up at Islington.'

Dead silence followed. Eyes of wonder were fixed upon him. But for those
eyes, who knows what confession Mr. Tymperley might have made? As it was...

'I said, Mrs. Charman, that I had to confess to an eccentricity. I hope it
won't shock you. To be brief, I have devoted my poor energies to social
work. I live among the poor, and as one of them, to obtain knowledge that
cannot be otherwise procured.'

'Oh, how noble!' exclaimed the hostess.

The poor gentleman's conscience smote him terribl