ed. Possibly, as her end drew near she had perceived herself
tower to camel size, the entrance to Paradise shrink to the
circumference which refuses to receive a thread manipulated by an
unsteady hand. Yes, yes; they began to expand in unctuous conjecture
that merged into deliberate assertion, when some one remarked that Mrs.
Errington had died in exactly three minutes of the rupture of a
blood-vessel on the brain. So this comfortable theory was exploded. And
no other seemed tenable. No other explained the fact that this wealthy
woman, notorious during her life for her miserly disposition, her
neglect of charity, her curious hatred of the poor and complete
emancipation from the tender shackles of philanthropy, bequeathed at
death the greater part of her fortune to the destitute of London, and to
the honest beggars whom fate persistently castigates, whom even Labour
declines to accept as toilers at the meanest wage.

Only Horace Errington, the dead woman's sole child, and Captain
Hindford, of the Life Guards, exactly knew the truth of the matter. And
this truth was so strange, and must have seemed so definite a lie to the
majority of mankind, that it was never given to the world. Not even the
rescued poor who found themselves received into the Errington Home as
into some heaven with four beautiful walls, knew why there had sprung up
such a home and why they were in it. The whole affair was discussed
ardently at the time, argued about, contested, and dropped. Mystery
veiled it. Like many things that happen, it remained an inexplicable
enigma to the world. And finally, the world forgot it. But Horace
Errington remembered it, more especially when he heard light-hearted
people merrily laughing at certain strange shadows of things unseen
which will, at times, intrude into the most frivolous societies, turning
the meditative to thoughts deep as dark and silent-flowing rivers, the
careless to frisky sneers and the gibes which fly forth in flocks from
the dense undergrowths of ignorance.

The Erringtons were magnets, and irresistibly attracted gold instead of
steel. Mr. Errington died comparatively young, overwhelmed by the
benefits showered upon him by Fortune, which continued to dog
persistently the steps of his widow, whom he left with one child,
Horace. This boy was destined by his father's will to be a millionaire,
and had no need of any money from his mother, so that, eventually, Mrs.
Errington did him no wrong by the beq