e, somewhat amused by the
question.

"Most people in ordinary circumstances," returned the old man slowly as
he wrote, "contribute a guinea to such charities."

"Many people," remarked Charlie, with a feeling of pity rather than
contempt, "contribute five, or even fifteen."

"Ah, indeed--yes, well, Mr Brooke, will you condescend to be the bearer
of my contribution? Fourteen Saint John Street, Adelphi, is not far
from this, and it will save a penny of postage, you know!"

Mr Crossley rose and handed the cheque to his visitor, who felt half
disposed--on the strength of the postage remark--to refuse it and speak
his mind somewhat freely on the subject, but, his eye happening to fall
on the cheque at the moment, he paused.

"You have made a mistake, I think," he said. "This is for five
_hundred_ pounds."

"I make no mistakes, Mr Brooke," returned the old man sternly. "You
said something about five or fifteen. I could not well manage fifteen
_hundred_ just now, for it is bad times in the city at present. Indeed,
according to some people, it is always bad times there, and, to say
truth, some people are not far wrong--at least as regards their own
experiences. Now, I must be off to business. Good-bye. Don't forget
to impress on your friend the importance of punctuality."

Jacob Crossley held out his hand with an expression of affability which
was for him quite marvellous.

"You're a much better man than I thought!" exclaimed Charlie, grasping
the proffered hand with a fervour that caused the other to wince.

"Young sir," returned Crossley, regarding the fingers of his right hand
somewhat pitifully, "people whose physique is moulded on the pattern of
Samson ought to bear in mind that rheumatism is not altogether unknown
to elderly men. Your opinion of me was probably erroneous to begin
with, and it is certainly false to end with. Let me advise you to
remember that the gift of money does not necessarily prove anything
except that a man has money to give--nay, it does not always prove even
that, for many people are notoriously prone to give away money that
belongs to somebody else. Five hundred pounds is to some men not of
much more importance than five pence is to others. Everything is
relative. Good-bye."

While he was speaking Mr Crossley rang the bell and politely opened the
dining-room door, so that our hero found himself in the street before he
had quite recovered from his astonishment.

"Please,