s. Elizabeth, old girl, we've got out of
this business cheaply. Good idea, that half-sovereign." Peter gave vent
to a chuckle that had the effect of alarming Elizabeth.

But luck evidently was not with Peter that night.

"Pingle's was sold out," explained Tommy, entering with parcels; "had to
go to Bow's in Farringdon Street."

"Oh!" said Peter, without looking up.

Tommy passed through into the little kitchen behind. Peter wrote on
rapidly, making up for lost time.

"Good!" murmured Peter, smiling to himself, "that's a neat phrase. That
ought to irritate them."

Now, as he wrote, while with noiseless footsteps Tommy, unseen behind
him, moved to and fro and in and out the little kitchen, there came to
Peter Hope this very curious experience: it felt to him as if for a long
time he had been ill--so ill as not even to have been aware of it--and
that now he was beginning to be himself again; consciousness of things
returning to him. This solidly furnished, long, oak-panelled room with
its air of old-world dignity and repose--this sober, kindly room in which
for more than half his life he had lived and worked--why had he forgotten
it? It came forward greeting him with an amused smile, as of some old
friend long parted from. The faded photos, in stiff, wooden frames upon
the chimney-piece, among them that of the fragile little woman with the
unadaptable lungs.

"God bless my soul!" said Mr. Peter Hope, pushing back his chair. "It's
thirty years ago. How time does fly! Why, let me see, I must be--"

"D'you like it with a head on it?" demanded Tommy, who had been waiting
patiently for signs.

Peter shook himself awake and went to his supper.

A bright idea occurred to Peter in the night. "Of course; why didn't I
think of it before? Settle the question at once." Peter fell into an
easy sleep.

"Tommy," said Peter, as he sat himself down to breakfast the next
morning. "By-the-by," asked Peter with a puzzled expression, putting
down his cup, "what is this?"

"Cauffee," informed him Tommy. "You said cauffee."

"Oh!" replied Peter. "For the future, Tommy, if you don't mind, I will
take tea of a morning."

"All the same to me," explained the agreeable Tommy, "it's your
breakfast."

"What I was about to say," continued Peter, "was that you're not looking
very well, Tommy."

"I'm all right," asserted Tommy; "never nothing the matter with me."

"Not that you know of, perhaps; but one can be in a v