carefully-worked-out scheme about the stewardship, he had been impressed
by what Parrawhite has said as to the wisdom of selling the will for
cash. Pratt did not believe that there was anything in the Collingwood
suggestion--no doubt whatever, he had decided, that old Bartle had meant
to tell Mrs. Mallathorpe of his discovery when she called in answer to
his note, but as he had died before she could call, and as he had told
nobody but him, Pratt, what possible danger could there be from
Collingwood? And a stewardship for life appealed to him. He knew, from
observation of the world, what a fine thing it is to have a certainty.

Once he became steward and agent of the Normandale Grange estate, he
would stick there, until he had saved a tidy heap of money. Then he
would retire--with a pension and a handsome present--and enjoy himself.
To be provided for, for life!--what more could a wise man want? And
yet--there was something in what that devil Parrawhite had urged.

For there was a risk--however small--of discovery, and if discovery were
made, there would be a nice penalty to pay. It might, after all, be
better to sell the will outright--for as much ready money as ever he
could get, and to take his gains far away, and start out on a career
elsewhere. After all, there was much to be said for the old proverb. The
only question was--was the bird in hand worth the two; or the money,
which he believed he would net in the bush?

Pratt's doubts on this point were settled in a curious fashion. He had
reached the centre of the town in his return to Eldrick's, and there, in
the fashionable shopping street, he ran up against an acquaintance. He
and the acquaintance stopped and chatted--about nothing. And as they
lounged on the curb, a smart victoria drew up close by, and out of it,
alone, stepped a girl who immediately attracted Pratt's eyes. He watched