at contemplation of it.

They washed and brushed her up and gave her an excellent supper;
and putting her into a first-class compartment labelled "Reserved,"
sent her back to Waterloo, and thence in a cab to Gough Square,
where she arrived about midnight, suffering from a sense of self-
importance, traces of which to this day are still discernible.

Such and thus was the beginning of all things. Tommy, having
talked for half an hour at the rate of two hundred words a minute,
had suddenly dropped her head upon the table, had been aroused with
difficulty and persuaded to go to bed. Peter, in the deep easy-
chair before the fire, sat long into the night. Elizabeth, liking
quiet company, purred softly. Out of the shadows crept to Peter
Hope an old forgotten dream--the dream of a wonderful new Journal,
price one penny weekly, of which the Editor should come to be one
Thomas Hope, son of Peter Hope, its honoured Founder and
Originator: a powerful Journal that should supply a long-felt
want, popular, but at the same time elevating--a pleasure to the
public, a profit to its owners. "Do you not remember me?"
whispered the Dream. "We had long talks together. The morning and
the noonday pass. The evening still is ours. The twilight also
brings its promise."

Elizabeth stopped purring and looked up surprised. Peter was
laughing to himself.



STORY THE SECOND--William Clodd appoints himself Managing Director