another hundred, and now, even if he finishes this one, it's very
doubtful if he'll get as much. "The Optimist" was practically a
failure.'

'Mr Yule may leave them some money,' said Dora.

'Yes. But he may live another ten years, and he would see them
both in Marylebone Workhouse before he advanced sixpence, or I'm
much mistaken in him. Her mother has only just enough to live
upon; can't possibly help them. Her brother wouldn't give or lend
twopence halfpenny.'

'Has Mr Reardon no relatives!'

'I never heard him make mention of a single one. No, he has done
the fatal thing. A man in his position, if he marry at all, must
take either a work-girl or an heiress, and in many ways the work-
girl is preferable.'

'How can you say that?' asked Dora. 'You never cease talking
about the advantages of money.'

'Oh, I don't mean that for ME the work-girl would be preferable;
by no means; but for a man like Reardon. He is absurd enough to
be conscientious, likes to be called an "artist," and so on. He
might possibly earn a hundred and fifty a year if his mind were
at rest, and that would be enough if he had married a decent
little dressmaker. He wouldn't desire superfluities, and the
quality of his work would be its own reward. As it is, he's
ruined.'