bellows, anvil, sledges, rasps, setts, drifts, and so on, making a
little smithy.

He engaged a boy; and soon John Loveday would be leaning all a
forenoon at the shed door, watching the lithe ply of Hogarth's hips,
and the white-hot iron gushing flushes; while Margaret, peeping,
could see Loveday's slovenly ease of pose, his numberless
cigarettes, and hear the rhymes of the sledges chiming.

As to Loveday's L50, she had dared to say nothing to Richard, but
kept them, intending to make up the amount already spent, and give
them to Frankl. Loveday, meantime, she avoided with constant care.

So two weeks passed, till, one day, Loveday, leaning at the forge-
door, happened to say: "Are you interested in current politics? The
East Norfolk division is being contested, one of the candidates, Sir
Bennett Beaumont, is a friend of mine, and I was thinking that I
might go to the meeting to-night, if you could come--"

"I invite you to supper here instead".

"Not interested?" queried Loveday.

"Not at all. Stop--I'll show you something in which I _am_
interested".

He ran to a corner, picked up a _Pearson's Weekly_, and pointed to a
paragraph headed:

"FIVE HUNDRED-POUND NOTES!