'I fear not, Sir Barnaby. I am truly sorry to see you in this plight. How long has this been coming on you?'

'Gad! it has been slow in progress, and how long it will continue the Lord alone knows. I can enjoy nothing. The world has used me badly, crumpled me up like an old rag—and you?'

'And I?' Holwood became grave and his face livid. 'I am afraid that I am threatened with something more serious, more painful than your affliction. It may be that I shall be let off with the scare—it may be——'

'Then, 'pon my soul! I'm sorry you lost your wife. Take my word for it, you can rely on a wife better than on a valet when hors de combat. I am sorry for you. Monstrous fine gal that.'

'My daughter—the pleasure of having her with me has for the moment taken me out of myself and made me forget my fears.'

'Taking the waters, Holwood? So am I, but they do me no good—harm rather. They are lowering. Excuse me, if I move on. Sambo! Sambo! Going to sleep there? I cannot remain still. I am liable to take a chill. Walk beside me, Holwood. Sambo! wheel me out of the gardens. I would ask you to dine, but, Lord! it is no pleasure. Lady Wardroper has the world of trouble to keep me clean. I cannot hold a knife and fork, and I spill the wine from my glass. However, it is her duty, and she likes it. Frank and the Missie can go on together. Walk by me, Holwood, and say something to amuse me. Gad! there is no wit in the world now. Lady Wardroper is all very well as a nurse, but she hasn't the faculty to answer me. Any new anecdotes out—epigrams? Any scandal? Ah! excuse me, I am having my twinges. Sambo! wheel me home. I must have my liniment rubbed in by Lady Wardroper. A good woman and useful, but dull.'

Mr. Holwood raised his hat.

As Sir Barnaby was being rolled away, he said to his son: 'Frank! A fine girl. Find out about her, who her mother was, and whether she left her a fortune. I did not know Holwood had been married; but he was a good-looking fellow, and rather a favourite with the ladies. Gad! So was I, and now I am this battered hulk! In the office, Holwood could not make any way. There will be a retiring pension, and his family is not amiss. Don't make more of an ass of yourself, Frank, than you are by nature. Do not commit yourself till she has been weighed and you have found her worth. Who the deuce is she talking with now? He looks like a seaman out for a holiday.'

The person whom Winefred met as she left the Sydney Gardens was Jack Rattenbury.

At sight of him she flushed to the temples. He came to her with deference in his manner. He could see that already she had stepped out of his sphere.