talking about his own health? It's the listener who minds, as a rule."

"Well, the present listener doesn't," I said.

"Then," said Mr. Bellingham, "I'll treat myself to the luxury of telling
you all my troubles; I don't often get the chance of a confidential
grumble to a responsible man of my own class. And I really have some
excuse for railing at Fortune, as you will agree when I tell you that, a
couple of years ago, I went to bed one night a gentleman of independent
means and excellent prospects and woke up in the morning to find myself
practically a beggar. Not a cheerful experience that, you know, at my
time of life, eh?"

"No," I agreed, "nor at any other."

"And that was not all," he continued; "for, at the same moment, I lost
my only brother, my dearest, kindest friend. He disappeared--vanished
off the face of the earth; but perhaps you have heard of the affair. The
confounded papers were full of it at the time."

He paused abruptly, noticing, no doubt, a sudden change in my face. Of
course, I recollected the case now. Indeed, ever since I had entered the
house some chord of memory had been faintly vibrating, and now his last
words had struck out the full note.

"Yes," I said, "I remember the incident, though I don't suppose I should
but for the fact that our lecturer on medical jurisprudence drew my
attention to it."

"Indeed," said Mr. Bellingham, rather uneasily, as I fancied. "What did