And the head of the lawyer fell upon his arm, his bosom shaken with
sobs.

Roundjacket looked at him no longer with so much surprise--he had
understood all.

"Yes, yes, sir--I had forgotten," he muttered, "this is the 13th of
October."

Mr. Rushton groaned.

Roundjacket was silent for a moment, looking at his friend with deep
sympathy.

"I don't wonder now at your feelings, sir," he said, "and I am sorry I
intruded on--"

"No, no--you are a good friend," murmured the lawyer, growing calmer,
"you will understand my feelings, and not think them strange. I am
nearly over it now; it must come--oh! I am very wretched! Oh! Anne! my
child, my child!"

And allowing his head to fall again, the rough, boorish man cried like
a child, spite of the most violent efforts to regain his composure and
master his emotion.

"Go," he said, in a low, broken voice, making a movement with his
hand, "I was wrong--I cannot see any one to-day--I must be alone."

Roundjacket hesitated; moved dubiously from, then toward the lawyer;