Mr. Armstrong turned to his letters.
"All right, Wilson, I daresay there is; don't wait, I'll call you if I find that any letters require attention."
Left to himself, Mr. Armstrong quickly opened letter after letter. Yes, there it was, from Overton and Boyd. Obliged from a sharp run on the bank to suspend payment; hoped to be able to recover themselves in a few days, and so on.
Edward Armstrong laid the notice on one side, looked over his other letters, wrote a few particulars on each, then sounded the gong for Mr. Wilson, who quickly made his appearance.
"Answer these letters, Wilson," he said; "two or three have evidently heard of this stoppage, and are alarmed for the safety of their money. I have written cheques to the amount of the debts of these parties, which you can enclose to them."
The clerk took the letters and left the room, and then Mr. Armstrong put on his hat and went out to ascertain the effect of this stoppage of Overton and Boyd on the corn exchange and elsewhere.
During the day many persons looked in at the office to ask the opinion of Mr. Armstrong, and to give him details of the present and probable consequences likely to result from this disastrous bank failure. Before the hour came for closing the office it was evident that a panic had arisen in the City, threatening destruction and ruin to more than one long-established house of business.
Mr. Armstrong, as he entered his splendidly furnished house at Kilburn, felt thankful for the absence of his daughter. At the same time he hastened to his dressing-room, anxious to remove, if possible, the pale and haggard look of his face before meeting his wife at dinner.
But the quick eye of affection was not to be deceived. Mrs. Armstrong waited till the dinner was removed, and the wine and dessert placed on the table.
The April evenings were cold enough for a fire, and the wife, whose mental powers her husband considered so inferior, soon proved herself a true comforter.