landlady. One pound four and fourpence to begin again at
three-and-twenty the battle of life on which he had entered at
thirteen. He laughed because he was young and strong, and knew that
such reverses were foreordained chapters in the lives of those born
to a glorious destiny. They were also preordained chapters in the
lives of those born to failure, like poor old Wilmer. He was
conscious of the wide difference between Wilmer and himself. Good
Heavens! To face the world at forty-three, with wife and children
and threepence-halfpenny, and the once attendant hope replaced by
black-vestured doom! Poor Wilmer! He felt certain that Wilmer had
not been able to pay his landlady, and he felt that he had been mean
in keeping back the other sovereign.

The sudden loss, however, of three-fourths of his fortune brought
him up against practical considerations. The more he had in his
pocket when he arrived in London, the longer could he subsist. That
was important, because theatrical engagements are not picked up in a
hurry. Now; the railway fare would swallow a goodly number of
shillings. Obviously it was advisable to save the railway fare; and
the only way to do this was to walk to London. His young blood
thrilled at the notion. It was romantic. It was also inspiring of
health and joy. He had been rather run down lately, and, fearful of
the catastrophe which had in fact occurred, he had lived this last
week very sparingly---chiefly on herrings and tea. A hundred and
fifty miles' tramp along the summer roads, with bread and cheese and
an occasional glass of beer to keep him going, would be just the
thing to set him up again. He looked in the glass. Yes, his face was
a bit pinched and his eyes were rather too bright. A glorious tramp
to London, thirty or forty miles a day in the blazing and beautiful
sunshine, was exactly what he needed.