makes the fleeting human voice an abiding, imperishable power. The
grateful teacher exhausted all his lore upon the pupil whose genius he
had freed, whose heart had subdued himself. Before leaving, George was
much perplexed how to offer to Waife any other remuneration than that
which, in Waife's estimate, had already overpaid all the benefits he had
received; namely, unquestioning friendship and pledged protection. It
need scarcely be said that George thought the man to whom he owed fortune
and happiness was entitled to something beyond that moral recompense.
But he found, at the first delicate hint, that Waife would not hear of
money, though the ex-Comedian did not affect any very Quixotic notion on
that practical subject. "To tell you the truth, sir, I have rather a
superstition against having more money in my hands than I know what to do
with. It has always brought me bad luck. And what is very hard,--the
bad luck stays, but the money goes. There was that splendid sum I made
at Gatesboro'. You should have seen me counting it over. I could not
have had a prouder or more swelling heart if I had been, that great man
Mr. Elwes the miser. And what bad luck it brought me, and how it all
frittered itself away! Nothing to show for it but a silk ladder and an
old hurdy-gurdy, and I sold them at half price. Then when I had the
accident, which cost me this eye, the railway people behaved so
generously, gave me L120,--think of that! And before three days the
money was all gone!"

"How was that?" said George, half-amused, half-pained,--"stolen perhaps?"

"Not so," answered Waife, somewhat gloomily, "but restored. A poor dear
old man, who thought very ill of me, and I don't wonder at it,--was
reduced from great wealth to great poverty. While I was laid up, my
landlady read a newspaper to me, and in that newspaper was an account of
his reverse and destitution. But I was accountable to him for the