leaving London, and mot a little lamented it, for to her the loss
would be serious indeed. Warburton's habitual generosity led her to
hope for some signal benefaction ere his departure; perhaps on that
account she was specially emphatic in gratitude for her sister's
restoration to health.

"We was wondering, sir," she added, now having wedged herself
between door and jamb, "whether you'd be so kind as to let my sister
Liza see you just for a minute or two, to thank you herself as I'm
sure she ought? She could come any time as wouldn't be
ill-convenient to you."

"I'm extremely busy, Mrs. Hopper," Will replied. "Please tell your
sister I'm delighted to hear she's done so well at Southend, and I
hope to see her some day; but not just now. By the bye, I'm not
going out this morning, so don't wait, when you've finished."

By force of habit he ate and drank. Sherwood's letter lay open
before him; he read it through again and again. But he could not fix
his thoughts upon it. He found himself occupied with the story of
Boxon, wondering whether Boxon would live or die. Boxon, the grocer
--why, what an ass a man must be, a man with a good grocery
business, to come to grief over drink and betting! Shopkeeping--
what a sound and safe life it was; independent, as far as any
money-earning life can be so. There must be a pleasure in counting
the contents of one's till every night. Boxon! Of course, a mere
brute. There came into Will's memory the picture of Boxon landed on
the pavement one night, by Allchin's fist or toe--and of a sudden
he laughed. When he had half-smoked his pipe, comparative calmness
fell upon him. Sherwood spoke of at once raising the money he owed,