"From our correspondents at Neuchatel, I think, sir. The letter has got
the Swiss postmark."



NEW CHARACTERS ON THE SCENE


The words, "The Swiss Postmark," following so soon upon the housekeeper's
reference to Switzerland, wrought Mr. Wilding's agitation to such a
remarkable height, that his new partner could not decently make a
pretence of letting it pass unnoticed.

"Wilding," he asked hurriedly, and yet stopping short and glancing around
as if for some visible cause of his state of mind: "what is the matter?"

"My good George Vendale," returned the wine-merchant, giving his hand
with an appealing look, rather as if he wanted help to get over some
obstacle, than as if he gave it in welcome or salutation: "my good George
Vendale, so much is the matter, that I shall never be myself again. It
is impossible that I can ever be myself again. For, in fact, I am not
myself."

The new partner, a brown-cheeked handsome fellow, of about his own age,
with a quick determined eye and an impulsive manner, retorted with
natural astonishment: "Not yourself?"

"Not what I supposed myself to be," said Wilding.