Launce. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost, for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever man ty'd.

Panthino. What's the unkindest ty'd?

Launce. Why, he that's ty'd here—Crab, my dog.—Shakespeare.

John Harewood returned, bringing with him what Alda took for a dressing-case, and Cherry for a drawing-box, but which proved to contain a wonderful genie to save the well-worn fingers many a prick. To Lance he first administered the magical words, 'All right,' and then making an opportunity, he put five sovereigns into his hand. Lance's first impulse was, however, not to thank, but to exclaim, 'Then Poulter has not got it?'

No, Poulter's conscience had forbidden him to purchase 'little Underwood's' treasure at what he knew to be so much beneath its value; but he had given Captain Harewood his best advice and recommendations, and by that means the violin had been taken at a London shop, still at a price beneath his estimate, but the utmost that could be expected where ready money was the point. Lance ought to have been delighted, and his native politeness made him repeat, 'Thank you;' but he could not quite keep down his regret—'Now I shall never see or hear her again.'

However, the next day, when Bernard flew upon him at twelve o'clock, asseverating that there was shade all the way, he allowed himself to be persuaded, prudently carrying with him only ten shillings, and trusting to his blue umbrella rather than to Bernard's shade, which could hardly have been obtained by sidling against the walls.

Bernard did not seem to have enjoyed much more of Stingo's society than Lance of his violin's—the produce of the same bounty. He confessed that he had only ventured on taking the dog out three times in a string, and on one of these occasions he had broken loose after a cat, on another had fought with Nares's dog, and on the third had snapped at Angela.

'You didn't take Angel into these places!'

'No, she came to meet me.'

'That's a sign of grace; but, Bear, I can't stand these diggings at all. I've a great mind to turn back.'

'You won't!' cried Bernard. 'You must have been here often when you were a grammar-school fellow.'

'Not we! This is a cut below us! Fulbert would never have been caught here!'

'But you are going to get me out of this fix?'

'Haven't I said I will? only hold your tongue, and let me alone to manage the rascal. If you open your mouth, I've done with it.'

Bernard was forced to acquiesce, though Lance's manner vexed and irritated him. Popular and valuable as Lance had been with the choristers, he was not dealing as well with his brother, perhaps partly because he was more consciously trying to influence him; and likewise because the state of his health and his prospects so far affected his manner, that though never ill-humoured, it had lost some of the easy careless sweetness of high spirits, and assumed an ironical tone, exasperating to a child who could not brook ridicule. He was ashamed and dismayed at the place where Bernard was leading him, so low and disreputable that the boys of his time had never haunted it, and his own gamin propensities had never extended so far. It was a tumble-down quarter; the houses, deplorable hovels, run up hastily for the workmen at the potteries, and every third or fourth a beer-shop; and in the midst dwelt Mr. Sims, a maimed poacher, who kept a large live-stock with which to trade on the sporting tastes of the youth of Bexley.

Probably he was gratified to see that 'my brother' meant nothing more imposing than the chorister; but Lance had so cultivated his opportunities at Dick Graeme's home, as to be more knowing on the subject than Felix would have been. Indeed, it did not take much science to estimate the value of the 'real animal,' whose market price seemed to have fallen considerably. Lance, as he looked at the pied, bandy-legged, long-nosed cur, felt it impossible to set his cost against his keep, nor was he designed by nature for driving bargains; but Sims' expectations were founded on the probable, and the debt was annulled for three-and-sixpence and Stingo himself. Much civility was expended on Lance; dogs, rabbits, and other curiosities were exhibited, and an invitation given to come with the other young gents to admire the favourite terrier's exploits upon a cage of rats shortly expected, admission free.

'You will come, won't you?' cried Bernard eagerly, as they went out.

'What? To all the vilest sports in the place!'

'But Lance, you told me about the rat hunt at Mr. Graeme's.'

'What? Turning out the barn, with Mr. Graeme himself, and Bill, and all the rest? Do you think that's like letting a lot of wretched beasts out of a trap to be snapped up by a cur of a dog, with no end of drinking foul-mouthed blackguards betting on him?'

'You are always so savage, Lance; and now you've gone and paid away all the money.'

'What more?'

'There's the shooting-gallery, you see.'

Lance did see a public-house called the Flying Stag, where Bernard had contrived to incur a debt of a few shillings under Nares's patronage. While inquiring after the amount, he saw Mr. Mowbray Smith coming along the alley, and was more amused than shocked at the amazement his own presence there would cause the Curate; but just then he perceived that men were standing scowling at their doors, and slovenly women thronging out like ants when their hill is disturbed: and asking an explanation from the damsel in ear-rings who attended to him, he heard that 'the chaps are determined that that there Smith shall not have the impudence to show his face here again, for a hypocrite, defrauding of the poor. You'd best be away, young gents, there will be a fracaw!'

'A row!' cried Bernard, between excitement and alarm. 'Shall we stay and see it? Won't Smith spy us?'

Lance deigned no reply, but seeing the rough-looking men gathering as if to obstruct the Curate's way, he shot across the street to shake hands with him.

'You! I am sorry to see you!' said Mr. Smith severely: at which Lance gave what under other circumstances would have been an impudent smile, and asked, 'Have you anywhere here to go?'

'I am just come away from a sick man. But you know how wrong it is to bring your little brother here. Take him away,' he added, trying to prevent them from joining him, and at the same time a voice shouted, 'Let him alone, young gents, he aint your sort;' and a hissing and hooting broke out all round, 'A parson as ought to have his gown pulled over his head!' 'What's gone of the coals?' 'How about the blankets?'

Bernard got a tight grip, out of sight, of Lance's coat; Mr. Smith grew red and bit his lips; but Lance walked close to him, and as they began to be jostled, took his arm, holding the blue sun-shade over both their heads. Unsavoury missiles began to fly; but a woman screeched, 'Bad luck to ye, ye vagabone! ye've ruinated the young gentleman's purty blue umberella!'

'Down with it, young chap,' called another, 'or ye'll be served with the same sauce!'

'Serve un right too!' was the rejoinder. ''Tis they Underwoods, as never stands up for poor men's rights, and is all for the tyrants.' (All this full of abusive epithets.)

'Who said that?' broke out Lance, beginning hastily to close his umbrella, and trying to wrench his arm from Mr. Smith; 'I'm ready for him.'

But Mr. Smith, with an angry 'Are you mad?' held him fast; and his struggles provoked a good-humoured laugh at the little champion, still so white and slight.

'No, no,' said a big powerful man, collaring a great lad who had been thrusting forward at Lance's defiance, 'we don't have no mills with natomies like you! Go home and mind yer own business. Your father was another guess sort of parson, and I'll not see a finger laid on you. Be off, till we've given that other bad lot a bit of our mind.'

'Not I!' growled Lance. 'I'll have it out with that rascal there.—Nonsense, Mr. Smith; I can, I say—and I will!'

But the big man and Mr. Smith were perfectly in accordance this time; and without a word between them, the impulse of the coal-heaver's weight somehow opened a path, where, shoved by the one, and dragged by the other, Lance was at the corner—then round it—the crowd followed no farther.

'A plucky little chap that!' quoth the coal-heaver to Mr. Smith. 'You may thank your stars that he's his father's son, or it would have been the worse for you! And if ever you show the face of you here again, you know what to expect.'

'I expect nothing but what I am willing to receive in my Master's service,' said Mr. Smith, firmly meeting his eyes. 'Meantime, thank you for the help you have given me with these boys. Good morning. You will judge me more fairly another time.'

The man added another contemptuous oath to those with which he had freely laden his discourse; but Lance paused a moment to say, 'Thank you too, you meant it well; but I wish you'd have let me have it out with that foul-mouthed cad.'

'Wait till ye're a match for him, and welcome,' said the man. 'Bless ye! what could that fist do with Black Bill?'

'For shame, boys! come away,' said the infinitely disgusted Curate; and not a word was spoken down the first street; Bernard was still trembling with excitement, and Lance, conscious perhaps that though his interference had answered his purpose, he had been betrayed into what he now saw to have been absurd.

At last the Curate spoke, his naturally harsh voice wavering a little between reproach and acknowledgment. 'I am very sorry for all this, Lancelot Underwood. I believe you joined me out of a kind and generous feeling, of which I am sensible; otherwise, I should feel it my duty to report to your brother where I met you.'

'You are quite welcome,' said Lance, coolly.

'And I must say,' continued Mr. Smith, 'that if your whole training, as well as your recent severe illness, do not withhold you from such associations, at least I entreat you to pause before leading your little brother into them.'

Lance made no answer, except to halt at a public drinking fountain, to wash away the damage his umbrella had sustained; and there, with a serious 'Take care!' the Curate left the brothers.

'Catch me going to his help again!' exclaimed Bernard, entirely unconscious that his own gratitude to Lance was on a par with Mr. Smith's. 'He may get out of the next row as he can!'

'Ah! Bear! You see how you are corrupting my innocent youth!'

'A meddling donkey! I wish he had a rotten egg in each eye! Now it will all come out.'

'What will?'

'Where we have been.'

'That's the best thing that could happen.'

'You don't mean that you mean to let it out?'

'If you expect me to tell lies for you, you are out there.'

'But, Lance, Lance,' in an agony, 'you wouldn't be such a sneak, when I trusted you?'

Lance laughed. The bare idea of betrayal seemed so absurd, that he scarcely thought it worth removing.

The two were slackening their pace as they saw Felix at the carriage-door of a lady customer; and Lance said gravely, 'I'll see to Mother Goldie; but now, Bear, that you are out of this scrape, I give you fair warning, that if I find you grubbing your nose into that sort of thing again, I'll put a stop to it, one way or another.'

'I'm not a bit worse than the rest. All the other fellows do it.'

'Oh, I suppose, if you think Stingo the right thing in dogs, you think Nares the right thing in fellows!'

At that moment the customer drove off, and Felix having spied the blue sun-shade, tarried at the door to administer a remonstrance to Lance on being so foolish as to venture into the noon-day sun. He was not able to come in to dinner till it was half over, and then it was with a merry look and question, 'What's this, boys, about Mowbray Smith being mobbed in Smoke-jack Alley and your making in to the rescue?'

'Oh,' said Lance, 'there was an attempt at getting up a shindy, but it was of the meanest description. No one knew how to set about it. There was only one Irishman there, and he was a woman.' (This with a wink to Sibby.)

'And you didn't offer to fight big Ben Blake?'

'Ben Blake, on the contrary, elbowed us all safe out, because my father was another guess sort of parson!'

'And there was a horrible little cad making faces,' exclaimed Bernard, unable to resist claiming part of the glory, 'and I was just going to have pitched into him–'

'What—you saw the row getting up, and went to stand by Smith?' said Felix.

'Yes,' said Bernard boldly; 'and nobody durst lay a finger on him when we were on each side of him!'

At which everybody burst out laughing, including Mr. Froggatt, and Lance most of all. 'Who was it, then,' he struggled to say gravely, 'that pulled so hard at the back of my coat? I suppose it must have been some little cad. I thought it had been you.'

'Well, it was time to hold you back, when you were going to fight that great lout!'

'For my part,' said Lance, 'I think it must have been Smith and I that were holding the Great Bear back by his tail from fighting big Ben Blake. Eh?'

Bernard, never able to bear being laughed at, looked intensely sulky; and a true description of the affair being asked by Mr. Froggatt, Lance gave it, exactly enough, but with so much of the comic side that every one was in fits of merriment, all of which, in his present mood, the younger boy imagined to be aimed at him. He was too full of angry self-consequence really to attend, so as to see how entirely disconnected with himself the laughter was; all he cared for was that Lance should not betray him; and to assure himself on this head, it must be confessed that he hovered on the upper stairs out of sight, while Felix was lingering on the lower to say to Lance, 'Of course it was only Smith's affair that took you into Smoke-jack Alley?'

'Not exactly,' said Lance.

Bernard trembled with resentment and alarm.

'I don't want to ask questions, but you know it is not a nice place for yourself or for Bernard.'

'My dear governor, I know that as well or better than you do, and it won't be my fault if I go there again.'

'Don't let it be anybody's fault,' returned Felix, and vanished through the office door; while Lance, sighing wearily, was heard repairing to his refuge in his own room, and Bernard grimly and moodily swung himself down-stairs, on his way to afternoon school, believing himself a much aggrieved party. Here was Lance, whom he had believed a fellow-inhabitant of the Alsatia of boyhood, turned into one of those natural enemies, moral police, who wanted to do him good! True, Lance had helped him out of his scrape, and guarded his secret; but Bernard could not forgive either his own alarm, or the 'not exactly;' and the terms of confidence so evident between him and Felix seemed to place them in the same hateful category. Worse than all, Lance had laughed at him, and Bernard was far too proud and self-important not to feel every joke like so many nettle-stings. He had expected an easy careless helper; he had found what he could not comprehend, whether boy or man, but at any rate a thing with that intolerable possession, a conscience, and a strong purpose of keeping him out of mischief.

To detect which purpose was to be resolved on thwarting it. Nor, it must be allowed, was Lance's management perfect. He wanted to make himself a companion such as would content the boy instead of the Nareses; but to cross the interval of amusement between sixteen and ten required condescension, that could not but be perceived and rejected, nor did he perceive that ridicule was an engine most fatal in dealing with Bernard. Of course nothing like all this passed through the boy's mind. Lance simply saw that his little brother was getting into mischief, and tried to play with him to keep him out of it, but was neither well nor happy enough to do so naturally, and therefore did not succeed. Yet if he had abstained from showing Bernard a picture in the style of Punch, of the real animal and no mistake, and Bernard himself pointing to Felix and observing that the governor didn't know what's what, he might have prevailed to prevent the boy from eluding him and going to Mr. Sims' rat-hunt.

Of all this Felix knew nothing. He still had much lee-way to make up, in consequence of his absence, and the excitement in the town told upon the business.

Mr. Bevan's reply had been a timid endeavour at peace-making which foes called shuffling, and friends could only call weakness, so that it added to the general exasperation. Then came the Archdeacon's investigation, which elucidated the Curate's moral integrity, but showed how money subscribed for charity had gone in the church expenses, that ought to have been otherwise provided for. It was allowed that the Rector had been only to blame in leaving the whole administration to the Curate under his wife's dominion, and as the lady could not be put forward, Mr. Smith was left to bear the whole brunt of the storm.

His obsequiousness to Lady Price had alienated his brother clergy, and his fellow-curate allowed himself to be kept aloof by his mother, in a manner that became ungenerous. Half petulant, and wholly ungracious, as Mr. Smith's manner was in receiving assistance, only strong principle could lead any one to befriend him; and his few advisers found it difficult to hinder him from making a public exposure of 'my Lady,' or from throwing up his work suddenly and leaving the town, which would of course have been fatal to his prospects.

The Pursuivant had a difficult course to steer. Mr. Froggatt would fain have ignored the strife altogether, but the original note of defiance having been sounded by his trumpet, this was not possible, and the border line between justice and partizanship was not easy to keep. Whether the young editor did keep it was a question. To Mr. Smith, he seemed a tame, lukewarm supporter; to Mr. Froggatt, a dangerously conscientious and incautious champion; and the vociferous public despised the dull propriety, and narrow partizanship, of the old country paper. Finally, on the first Saturday in October, there appeared the first sheet of the Bexley Tribune, with a cutting article on bloated dignitaries and blood-sucking parasites, and an equally personal review of all the Proudie literature. On the Monday morning one hundred and twenty-nine Pursuivants remained on hand. Redstone took the trouble to count them, and to look into the office to ask Mr. Underwood where they should be stowed away.

'I wish he was smothered in them, the malicious brute!' said Lance, grinding his teeth, when Felix had given a summary answer. 'What a blessing to see the ugly back of him on the 1st of November!'

'I'm not so sure of that,' said Felix, as he sorted the letters of the Sunday post.

'Do you think he can do us any harm?'

'No; but he seems a specimen of an article hard to supply at the same price.'

'Are those answers to your advertisement?'

'Yes, and very unpromising.'

Lance came to look them over with him, and to put aside those worth showing to Mr. Froggatt; but it seemed that an assistant suitable in appearance and intelligence was so costly as to alarm their old-fashioned notions. He must be efficient, for Mr. Froggatt was equal to little exertion, and never came in on bad days; and to give an increased salary when the paper was struggling with a rival was serious; yet the only moderate proposal was from a father at Dearport, who wanted his son boarded, lodged, and treated as one of the family.

'That is impossible,' said Felix, 'unless the Froggatts would do it.'

'Eighteen!' said Lance. 'I'm sixteen, and up to the ways of the place! Why don't you set me to work before I have eaten my head off?'

'It would not do for you afterwards,' said Felix; 'I don't like your rushing out to serve.'

'But really, Felix, I mean it. I can do all Redstone does, except lifting some of the weights; and I am as old as you when you began.'

'No, no, Lance; your line is cut out for you.'

'It was,' said Lance, 'but I'm off it, and no good as I am; and if you could save Redstone's salary, you might send Bear to Stoneborough, instead of letting him stay here and go to the dogs.'

'Ah!' groaned Felix, 'it is hard that all this should come to upset his chances!'

'Are you really afraid those rascals can do us much harm?'

'We have a sound county circulation beyond their reach, but every copy they sell is so much out of our pockets; and there are so many people possessed with a love of the low and scurrilous, as well as so many who differ in politics, that it must thrive unless they stultify themselves. Don't look so appalled, Lancey boy; we aint coming to grief, only it will be a close shave at home this winter.'

'Then, Felix, let me help! You don't know the comfort it would be.'

'Not so loud,' said Felix, stepping into the shop. Lance stood thoughtful, then hearing more footsteps, ran out, and found two or three boys come for school materials, and some maids waiting to change volumes for their ladies. He gave his ready help; and there ensued a lull, for it was a wet day, such as to make Mr. Froggatt's coming doubtful. Felix took a second survey of the applications.

'Now, Fee, do think about this; I am in earnest.'

'So am I, Lance; I am very thankful to you, but it is not to be thought of.'

'Why not? Am I too small? For that's mending. There's one good thing in being ill, it sets one growing. My thick go-to-meeting trousers that I left at Minsterham, are gone up to my ankles; I must ask Wilmet if Clem hasn't left a pair that have got too seedy for Cambridge.'

'It is not that, Lance, but the disadvantage it might be to you in after-life.'

'If I took to it for good?'

'No, no, Lance; one is enough.'

'Stay. Don't shut me up that way. Recollect what this horrid donothingness is doing for me. I am losing all chance of the exhibition, and they can't keep me on at the Cathedral without, for my voice has got like an old crow's; and besides, if I can't read, what's the good of standing for scholarships?'

'You will feel very differently when your head is stronger. Besides, if there should be anything in what we were told at Ewmouth, it would be a pity to get more involved with trade.'

'I thought that was never to be spoken of.'

'And this is my first time. Don't take it as a licence.'

'I could see the sense of that, if it were you,' said Lance, 'but not for No. 5.'

'No. 1 would have his place and work found for him, but No. 5 might not find it easy to turn to something else.'

'Well!' said Lance, considering, 'you said that possibility was not to make any difference to us. Wouldn't it be making the wrong sort of difference to let it keep a great lout like me in idleness while Bernard is going to the bad?'

'What do you mean about Bernard?' said Felix, now thoroughly roused. 'Is it worse than you and Fulbert were in your gamin days?'

'I am afraid so,' said Lance. 'Ful took better care of himself than he seemed to do, and his friends were decent fellows, not like the lot that have hooked in poor little Bear.'

'I suppose it was some scrape of his that took you into Smoke-jack Alley. I thought you would get him out best without me.'

'The little dog, he was always after me when I didn't want him, but now I can't get at him. In short, there's nothing for it but cutting the connection between him and Jem Nares.'

'Just tell me how far it goes. What has he been doing with him?'

'Taking him to see rat-killing at Sims' in Smoke-jack Alley.'

'You couldn't hinder it?'

'No. Indeed, Felix, I did my best,' and the tears sprang into the boy's eyes; 'I did all but go after him, for I knew that would be worse than no good.'

'You need not apologize to me,' said Felix, laying down his pen; 'I have been very wrong. Between this business of Smith's and all the rest of it, I have hardly known which way to turn. I knew that I had not taken the right line with Fulbert, and interference made him worse, and I thought you had taken Bear in hand. Why, Lancey, I never meant to upset you. You have done all you could.'

'I did think I was good for that,' said Lance ruefully, 'after all our old swells at Minsterham said about influence on the choir and bosh. That when it comes to one's own brother—'

The tears were almost girl-like, and Felix's comfort was in the tone that suited them. 'Indeed, Lance, you may be doing him more good than you know. I thank you with all my heart; you are a much more real help and comfort to us all than you guess.'

'That's what you say to Cherry!' said Lance, impatiently. 'Now I can be real help, if you would only let me, and then Bernard could go out of the way of these fellows.'

'That he shall do, if I have to dip into the Chester legacy again.'

'Better take my way,' said Lance, reviving; 'a young man with good references only wants board and lodging.'

'It is not possible, Lance. It would not be respectful to the Bishop or the Dean, who have strained a point to keep you. There—I hear Mr. Kenyon's voice in the shop. I must go.'

'Only one thing, Felix. Will you hear what Jack Harewood says to it?'

To this Felix readily assented. He was hurried and harassed nearly to the extent of his time and capacity; he could not pause to give full consideration to his young brother's project, and was glad that the ungracious task of silencing it should be imposed on one less immediately interested.

John Harewood was always at Wilmet's side after four o'clock. Before that time he sometimes went to his home; he often spent the afternoon with Geraldine, but he was not usually about the house in the morning. So Lance, in a fever of impatience, wandered till he hunted him down writing letters in the coffee-room at the Fortinbras Arms.

'Jack, I say, come and have a walk.'

'Pleasant weather!'

'You want to be watered, after all that parching in India. It isn't raining now, and such a jolly cool day!'

'Jollier for you than a finer day, mayhap,' said the good-natured soldier, who greatly commiserated Lance's enforced idleness, and only wondered at his not making it a greater misery to every one else. He also understood what the inured ears of the family never guessed, since Lance never complained, the distress of Theodore's constant hum and concertina to sensitive ears and excited nerves; and had observed that Lance had flagged ever since the journey to Minsterham, with less of vigour and more of sharpness. Sure that something was preying on the boy, he deferred his least important letters, to splash away with him in mud and mist, and hear him explain his views, with the fullness often more possible towards friend than family.

John was greatly surprised, but did not make any crushing objection, and listened with thorough sympathy. He doubted, however, whether Lance would be doing any real good, and not only throwing more, instead of less work upon Felix. Sensibly enough the boy went into the matter. He said that when Felix began, the staff had also consisted of Mr. Froggatt, Redstone, a lad called Stubbs, and a boy. Now Felix did much more than Mr. Froggatt had then done, and Stubbs was a useful piece of mechanism without a head, and Lance believed himself quite able to fill the place Felix had taken at the same age; indeed, he had far less either to learn or to overcome, and though his arithmetical powers were still in abeyance, he had rather excelled in that line at the Cathedral school.

'I know, of course,' said Lance, 'that a man from a London house would be of more use; but there's this awful salary, and he would never care to look after Felix.'

'I allow that; but even if you can be of much present use, is it not at the expense of greater usefulness by-and-by?'

'I am sick of that! Edgar and Clem both mean to be of use by-and-by, and what comes of it? Edgar has spent Felix's two hundred pounds that he borrowed, and now has got his own, all to repay when he is a great painter. And he is six years older than I am! Now if I earned my guinea a week, as Felix did, it would be real good now, and I should be learning the trade for the future.'

'That's the question. First, would the guinea a week make so much appreciable difference?'

'Is that all you know about it, Jack? First, I should be earning my keep, not eating my head off; and then Bernard might be sent safe off to school.'

'You don't mean to say that otherwise he could not?'

'It has been a terribly costly year. There's Edgar. Then Clem couldn't settle in at Cambridge for nothing; there's been Alda turned back on Felix's hands; there's been illness, and goodness knows what the doctors may charge; and there's Felix's outing and mine!'

John answered by opening his pocket-book and showing Dr. Manby's account receipted.

'O Jack! You don't mean—'

'Considering that Will was the sole cause of the doctor being wanted at all, we could only wish to bear the damages.'

'I hope you have told Wilmet. It would be a ton weight off her mind.'

'I hope she would think the Chapter did it; but if you think she is anxious, let her know that it is all right.'

'You are a brick, John! But Felix himself said it would be a close shave. I wish I could throttle that Bexley Tribune, and all its dirty supporters!'

'Do you know, Lance, I am very much struck with your brother's—ay, and old Froggatt's conduct in this matter.'

Lance flushed with pleasure. 'Go ahead, Jack!'

'Of course, for a paper to keep its politics is nothing; but to take up the cause of an unpopular man, whose slights have been marked—'

'Who has been a malicious little cad,' chimed in the chorister.

'To take up his cause, simply as a matter of justice, and therewith of the Church, without truckling to public opinion, at absolute risk and loss, seems to me generosity and principle quite out of the common way.'

'You're about right there,' said Lance, intensely gratified; 'and doesn't it make one burn to help the old fellow?'

'Quite true. The question is, which way to help him; and while I grant you that the being idle at home just now is a terrible trial, whether it might not be better to be patient under it, than to disqualify yourself for a line in which you might do more—that is if it does disqualify you.'