uin, but he
had gone a little farther than a man altogether brave, and honourable,
and clearsighted would have ventured, and he knew that some would suffer
with him. He might have made arrangements to go a little farther still
if he had been courageous, clear-sighted, and dishonest, and might have
held his head up for another matter too, perhaps. But he had lacked the
nerve for that, and had never consciously been a rogue. He felt even
now a pride of honesty. He had been unfortunate, and his creditors would
have everything--everything.

He thanked God that Phil's mother had tied her money on her only son,
and that the boy at least had enough to begin the world with. How should
he face Phil when he came home again? How should he send the news to
him? The lad was away enjoying himself, travelling all round the world
with a wandering Baronet, who owned a yacht and had an unappeasable
taste for the destruction of big game. He would have to surrender his
fashionable and titled acquaintance now, poor fellow, and begin the
world with a disgraced and broken frame to be a drag and hindrance
to him. The more Mr. Bommaney thought of these things, the more
unrestrainedly he cried; and the more he cried, the less he felt able or
inclined to control his tears.

He wept almost silently, only an occasional sniff betraying his emotion
to his ear. He had always held his head so high, and had been so
believed in. It was very bitter.

Whilst he was in the midst of this childish abandonment to his grief a
set of knuckles softly and hesitatingly tapped the door from without,
and directly afterwards a hand made a tentative respectful sort of
attempt upon the handle.

'Who's there?' cried Mr. Bommaney, steadying his voice as best he could.

'A gentleman to see you, sir,' answered a smooth voice outside.

Mr. Bommaney pushed back his chair, rose to his feet, and retiring to a
smaller room consulted a little square looking-glass which hung upon
the wall above his washing-stand. His blue eyes were very tearful and a
little swollen, his cheeks and nose looked as if they had been scalded.

'Wait a moment,' he said aloud, and his voice betrayed him by a break.
He blushed and trembled, thinking that Mr. Hornett, his confidential
clerk, would know how he was breaking down, and would speak of his
want of courage and self-command hereafter. The reflection nerved
him somewhat, and he sluiced his face with water, making a little
unnecessary noise