"To-night."
"They are good people?"
"The best in the world. She cannot help being happy with them."
"Do they live in Portsmouth?"
"No, in Gosport. I think this is as much as I have the right to disclose."
"I agree with you. Mr. Moss, you can render me an obligation, and you can do a kindness to the poor child's mother. She has implored me to endeavor to place this small iron box in the care of the guardians of her child, to be retained by them for twenty-one years, or until the mother claims it, which she will be free to do in the event of her husband dying during her lifetime. I do not know what it contains, and I understand it is to be given up to no other person than the child or her mother. Will you do this for me or for her?"
"For both of you, doctor," replied Mr. Moss, lifting the box from the table. "It shall be given into their care, as the mother desires. And now I must be off. I have a busy night before me. Do you go to London to-morrow?"
"A train leaves in a couple of hours; I shall travel by that."
"Well, good-night, and good luck to you. If you want to write to me you know my address."
They parted with cordiality, and each took his separate way, Dr. Spenlove to the City of Unrest, and Mr. Moss to the peaceful town of Gosport.