hain, which had made a serious hole in his brother-in-law's Savings
Bank account, lent an air of substance to his waistcoat, and a pin of
excellent paste sparkled in his neck-tie. Under the influence of good
food and home comforts he improved every day, and the unfortunate Mr.
Spriggs was at his wits' end to resist further encroachments. From the
second day of their acquaintance he called Mr. Potter "Alf," and the
young people listened with great attention to his discourse on "Money:
How to Make It and How to Keep It."

His own dealings with Mr. Spriggs afforded an example which he did
not quote. Beginning with shillings, he led up to half-crowns, and,
encouraged by success, one afternoon boldly demanded a half-sovereign to
buy a wedding-present with. Mrs. Spriggs drew her over-wrought husband
into the kitchen and argued with him in whispers.

"Give him what he wants till they're married," she entreated; "after
that Alfred can't help himself, and it'll be as much to his interest to
keep quiet as anybody else."

Mr. Spriggs, who had been a careful man all his life, found the
half-sovereign and a few new names, which he bestowed upon Mr. Price at
the same time. The latter listened unmoved. In fact, a bright eye and
a pleasant smile seemed to indicate that he regarded them rather in the
nature of compliments than otherwise.

"I telegraphed over to Australia this morning," he said, as they all sat
at supper that evening.

"A gold watch and chain lent an air of substance to his waistcoat."

"About my money?" said Mr. Potter, eagerly.

Mr. Price frowned at him swiftly. "No; telling my head clerk to send
over a wedding-present for you," he said, his face softening under the
eye of Mr. Spriggs. "I've got just the thing for you there. I can't see
anything good enough over here."

The young couple were warm in their thanks.

"What did you mean, about your money?" inquired Mr. Spriggs, turning to
his future son-in-law.

"Nothing," said the young man, evasively.

"It's a secret," said Mr. Price.

"What about?" persisted Mr. Spriggs, raising his voice.

"It's a little private business between me and Uncle Gussie," said Mr.
Potter, somewhat stiffly.

"You--you haven't been lending him money?" stammered the bricklayer.

"Don't be silly, father," said Miss Spriggs, sharply. "What good would
Alfred's little bit o' money be to Uncle Gussie? If you must know,
Alfred is drawing it out for uncle to invest it for him."

T