s to his eyes; in Dove's opinion it was a poor sort of
place--clean, certainly, but what of that? Dove considered that
cleanliness meant poverty. Dove's tastes lay in the direction of rooms
thickly carpeted; he liked two or three carpets, one on the top of the
other, on a floor; he liked the rooms to be well crowded with
furniture--furniture of the good old mahogany type, heavy and
dark--and the windows draped with thick merino. A room so furnished
would, as Dove expressed it, look solid, and mean a heavy purse, and
perhaps a nice little nest-egg laid by tidily in one of the drawers or
bureaus. Such a room would be very interesting to examine, but this
sitting-room, with its crimson drugget, and its white flooring, its
one or two choice engravings on the walls, and its little book-case
filled with good and valuable books, was, Dove considered, very shabby
indeed. He found nothing more worth taking, and having given the Pink
a kick by way of a parting blessing, he left the room, made his exit
again by the roof, and so departed unperceived. He had Primrose's
letter in his pocket, and he thought himself very lucky to have so
nicely secured her quarter's allowance. He returned to his own house
in Eden Street, and in the privacy of his back parlor opened Mr.
Danesfield's letter. It was a short letter, and, as it happened was
not written by Mr. Danesfield at all. Dove, however, by patient
spelling and peering, presently mastered its contents.

"The Bank,
"High Street, Rosebury,
"April 21.

"MADAM,

"In Mr. Danesfield's absence, I send you a cheque for L17 10_s._,
according to his orders. The cheque will require your signature at the
back, and if you will kindly sign it you, or any one else, can obtain
cash for the amount at the Metropolitan Bank, Strand.

"I expect Mr. Danesfield home in about six weeks; he has been
wintering abroad.

"Yours faithfully,
"JOHN DAVIS."

Dove took the greater part of an hour to make this letter out; next he
fingered the cheque, turning it backwards and forwards; then his face
grew very blank--for, unsigned, that cheque was valueless. He was a
violent man, and he uttered some strong expressions, and his wife, on
hearing them, took good care to keep out of his way. She could not
make out why Dove sat so long in the back parlor, and why he refused
to eat his dinner, which was very hot and tasty. After a time, with a
sigh of relief, she heard him go out.

D