LITMIR.BIZ

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or two for a few weeks. He had walked the distance, and had met with disappointment; the gentleman was absent on business and might be absent several days.

      "Upon my word," said the good doctor as he drearily retraced his steps, "it is almost as bad as being shipwrecked. Worse, because there are no railways on desert islands. What on earth am I to do? Get to London I must, by hook or by crook, and there is absolutely nothing I can turn into money."

      Then he bethought himself of Mr. Moss, and in his extremity determined to make an appeal in that quarter. Had it not been for what had occurred last night he would not have dreamed of going to this gentleman, of whose goodness of heart he had had no previous experience, and upon whose kindness he had not the slightest claim. Arriving at Mr. Moss' establishment, another disappointment attended him; Mr. Moss was not at home, and they could not say when he would return. So Dr. Spenlove, greatly depressed, walked slowly on, his mind distressed with troubles and perplexities.

      He had seen nothing more of Mr. Gordon, who had left him in the early morning with a simple acknowledgment in words of the services he had rendered; nor had he seen anything further of Mrs. Turner. On his road home he called at her lodgings, and heard from her fellow-lodger that she had left the house.

      "We don't know where she's gone to, sir," the woman said, "but the rent has been paid up, and a sovereign was slipped under my door. If it wasn't that she was so hard up I should have thought it came from her."

      "I have no doubt it did," Dr. Spenlove answered. "She has friends who are well to do, and I know that one of these friends, discovering her position, was anxious to assist her."

      "I am glad to hear it," said the woman, "and it was more than kind of her to remember me. I always had an idea that she was above us."

      As he was entering his room his landlady ran up from the kitchen.

      "Oh, doctor, there's a parcel and two letters for you in your room, and Mr. Moss has been here to see you. He said he would come again."

      "Very well, Mrs. Radcliffe," said Dr. Spenlove, and cheered by the news of the promised visit he passed into his apartment. On the table were the letters and the parcel. The latter, carefully wrapped in thick brown paper, was the iron box he had given to Mrs. Turner. One of the letters was in her handwriting, and it informed him that her child had been taken away, and that she was on the point of leaving Portsmouth.

      "I am not permitted," the letter ran, "to inform you where I am going, and I am under the obligation of not writing to you personally after I leave this place. This letter is sent without the knowledge of the gentleman for whom you acted, and I do not consider myself bound to tell him that I have written it. What I have promised to do I will do faithfully, but nothing further. You who, of all men in the world, perhaps know me best will understand what I am suffering as I pen these lines. I send with this letter the box you were kind enough to give me last night. It contains the memorial of which I spoke to you. Dear Dr. Spenlove, I rely upon you to carry out my wishes with respect to it. If you are acquainted with the guardian of my child convey it to him, and beg him to retain it until my darling is of age, or until I am free to seek her. It is not in your nature to refuse the petition of a heartbroken mother; it is not in your nature to violate a promise. For all the kindnesses you have shown me receive my grateful and humble thanks. That you will be happy and successful, and that God will prosper you in all your undertakings, will be my constant prayer. Farewell."

      Laying this letter aside he opened the second, which was in a handwriting strange to him:

      "Dear Sir: All my arrangements are made, and the business upon which we spoke together is satisfactorily concluded. You will find inclosed a practical expression of my thanks. I do not give you my address for two reasons. First, I desire no acknowledgment of the inclosure; second, I desire that there shall be no correspondence between us upon any subject. Feeling perfectly satisfied that the confidence I reposed in you will be respected, I am,

"Your obedient servant,G. Gordon."

      The inclosure consisted of five Bank of England notes for twenty pounds each. Dr. Spenlove was very much astonished and very much relieved. At this juncture the money was a fortune to him; there was a likelihood of its proving the turning point in his career; and although it had not been earned in the exercise of his profession, he had no scruple in accepting it. The generosity of the donor was, moreover, in some sense an assurance that he was sincere in all the professions he had made.

      "Mr. Moss, sir," said Mrs. Radcliffe, opening the door, and that gentleman entered the room.

      As usual he was humming an operatic air, but he ceased as he closed the door, which, after a momentary pause, he reopened to convince himself that the landlady was not listening in the passage.

      "Can't be too careful, doctor," he observed, with a wink, "when you have something you want to keep to yourself. You have been running after me and I have been running after you. Did you wish to see me particularly?"

      "To tell you the truth," replied Dr. Spenlove, "I had a special reason for calling upon you, but," he added, with a smile, "as it no longer exists I need not trouble you."

      "No trouble, no trouble at all. I am at your service, doctor. Anything I could have done, or can do now, to oblige, you may safely reckon upon. Within limits, you know, within limits."

      "Of course, but the necessity is obviated. I intended to ask you to lend me a small sum of money-without security, Mr. Moss."

      "I guessed as much. You should have had it, doctor, and no inquiries made, though it isn't the way I usually conduct my business; but there are men you can trust and are inclined to trust, and there are men you wouldn't trust without binding them down hard and fast. If you still need the money don't be afraid to ask."

      "I should not be afraid, but I am in funds. I am not the less indebted to you, Mr. Moss."

      "All right. Now for another affair-my affair I suppose I must call it till I have shifted it to other shoulders, which will soon be done. Dr. Spenlove, that was a strange adventure last night."

      "It was. A strange and sad adventure. You behaved very kindly, and I should like to repay what you expended on behalf of the poor lady."

      "No, no, doctor, let it rest where it is. I don't acknowledge your right to repay what you don't owe, and perhaps I am none the worse off for what I did. Throw your bread on the waters, you know. My present visit has reference to the lady-as you call her one I will do the same-we picked out of the snow last night. Did you ever notice that things go in runs?"

      "I don't quite follow you."

      "A run of rainy weather, a run of fine weather, a run of good fortune, a run of ill fortune."

      "I understand."

      "You meet a person to-day whom you have never seen or heard of before. The odds are that you will meet that person to-morrow, and probably the next day as well. You begin to have bad cards, you go on having bad cards; you begin to make money, you go on making money."

      "You infer that there are seasons of circumstances, as of weather. No doubt you are right."

      "I know I am right. Making the acquaintance of your friend Mrs. Turner last night in a very extraordinary manner, I am not at all surprised that I have business in hand in which she is concerned. You look astonished, but it is true. You gave her a good character, doctor."

      "Which she deserves. It happens in life to the best of us that we cannot avert misfortune. It is a visitor that does not knock at the door; it enters unannounced."

      "We have unlocked the door ourselves, perhaps," suggested Mr. Moss sagely.

      "It happens sometimes in a moment of trustfulness, deceived by specious professions. The weak and confiding become the victims."

      "It is the way of the world, doctor. Hawks and pigeons, you know."

      "There are some who are neither," said Dr. Spenlove, who was not disposed to hurry his visitor. His mind was easy as to his departure from Portsmouth, and he divined from the course the conversation was taking that Mr. Moss had news of a special nature to communicate. He deemed it wisest to allow him to break it in his own way.

      "They are the best

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