The Princess Galva

s of the basement counting-house, and the clerk at the corner desk could barely d

ss into the possession of his junior. Edward noticed this junior now and the glances which that young man cast at the scratched and ink-stained slab of mahogany that was to constitute his kingdom of the morrow. Edward wondered dully whether the young man was as

ceased clerk, and posted them with a little note of sympathy to his widow. Some had seemed too trivial to send, and of these a few still remained, a battered soap-box, a small

ell-known odour of the wood came to his nostrils and he sighed a little. From shadowy and dusty corners he got t

the junior, brushing his hair in front of a lit

ing you old Brown's looking-glass and soap-bo

is fancy waistcoat, lit a cigarette, and took a pair of roller-skat

ck, old man, and all that. You'll drop int

ll right," sai

nty-two years, except perhaps on that one evening fifteen years ago. Then he had been hurrying out to a small house in a mean street in Barnsbury, to a little woman who was waiting for the news that would enable her to become the wife of the man who brought it. Now he was going to another little house in a mean street, in Clapham this time, to the same woman, but with how different tidings and how differently they would be received

buff envelope which contained his salary and his congé had been deadening, and the feeling had numbed him for the whole day. Then had come the inevitable reaction, t

the sake of peace, had given himself unresistingly to the potter's thumb. Charlotte's method, however, left much to be desired. With the laudable object of rousing the soul of Ed

l; it had been so consistently impressed upon him that he was a poor sort of a chap anywa

nge. He began to think that it was a good, full world-a world in which there were more things and higher possibilities than t

owing under the railway arches up-stream was splashed with the glory of the setting sun, little elusive reflections showing blood

they were unloading a tramp steamer of boxes of fruit. The men swarming like ants up the long gangways were carrying on their backs light crates. One of these boxes had come apart and lay on the grimy deck shedding a little pool of golden oranges.

d steamer that was cautiously sidling out into mid-stream slip down to the sea. Two men were working vigorously with long poles, guiding a barge laden with straw out of her way. Edward Povey watched her, telling himsel

f the salt spray, and to reach the places blazoned so bravely forth in gold letters upon the sterns below him. Barcelona, for instance, spoke of sunny skies and indolence and romance, a

he firm to whom he had been correspondence clerk for so many years. Edward had never had much to do with the junior par

eaving us, Mr. Pove

sir,

what Mr. Schultz does, it's his department, you know, but I didn't want t

Povey

ter still, come and have a chop

had been for a quarter of a century. Yesterday this same man w

f, on his way to the little eating-house up the court where he had taken his modest midday meal of sandwiches and stout. There was a sense of well-being about his present surroundings that gave him a feeling as though he had set foot in a new world and that he meant to rem

ht help me. You'll be looking round for another place, I suppose, but if you can

his willingness to do a

h me, so I want you to run out and see that things are all right. I'll give you the key. Any letters that come you can keep for me until my ret

enture was not panning out as he had hoped. At the same time, he told himself that he would be paid for his service

y Cottage, Bushey Heath, in his pocket, and rather a feeling of resentment against Mr. Kyser and

gerous thing in the brai