what said the little lady?" he inquired.

"She turned up her nose at me—what small amount of nose there was to turn—she looked at me. Soh!" And Mr. Kleinwort glanced out of the corner of his eyes, and puckered his face into a grotesque sneer. "She flounced her dress about in a pet, and said, 'Thank you very much, but we are all tired of pouring water into a sieve; and, for myself, I think bankruptcy must be heaven in comparison to the life we have been leading lately.'"

"And you?" suggested Mr. Asherill.

"I then made answer, 'Madame, you will not find bankruptcy so pleasant as you think.' She folded her hands and said, 'We will take our chance.'"

"And what was Mortomley doing all this time?" asked Mr. Asherill.

With an expressive shrug Mr. Kleinwort answered, "Ill or making believe to be ill; it all comes to the same for us."

"Is the man really ill?" said Mr. Asherill, turning to Mortomley's 'friend.'

"I do not know; the doctor and his wife say he is; but then doctors and wives will say anything," Mr. Werner replied impatiently.

"You both, however, believe that if he had been in the way this misfortune need not have come to pass?"

"Most assuredly," said Mr. Kleinwort, eagerly.

"It might have been deferred, at all events," acquiesced Mr. Werner.

"Mrs. Mortomley is a relation of yours by marriage, I think," suggested Mr. Asherill, addressing Mr. Werner.

"By no means. My wife is a niece of Lord Darsham; Mrs. Mortomley, the daughter of a poor country clergyman. My wife knew Mrs. Mortomley when they were both young girls, and a sort of acquaintance has been kept up since."

Mr. Werner spoke the preceding sentence very rapidly, and grew very red in spite of his dark complexion, as if the question and answer had embarrassed him; but Mr. Asherill seemed to take little heed of his agitation, for he turned at once to Mr. Kleinwort, remarking,

"Is Forde in this, too?"

"Ach, yes," returned the other; "in what is it poor Forde is not? He is so good, so kind, so easy, or what you English call in your droll way—soft."

"Perhaps," remarked Mr. Asherill dubiously, "he has had a good deal to do with you, Kleinwort?"

"A little; yes, a little; not with me exact, but correspondents of mine."

"And I expect he will have more to do with you before all transactions are finally closed," continued Mr. Asherill.

"It may be; who can tell? business grows."

"True," agreed Mr. Asherill, "and falls off, which brings us back to Mortomley. Why, as you two are so much interested in the affair, do you not act as friendly trustees and help to pull him through?"

"Oh! it is deucedly unpleasant being mixed up in such affairs," said Mr. Werner hastily.

"He means nothing by that," remarked Mr. Kleinwort, in reference to his companion's adverb, at which Mr. Asherill had shaken his head in grave remonstrance. "As to Mortomley, poor fellow, Forde asked me to see to the property, but I made answer—

"No, no; I have mine own business to attend to; anything in reason it is possible to do for the poor fellow and that mistaken little lady, yes; but I cannot neglect my own family and my own interests, even for the sake of that most beautiful child her mother refused to let kiss old, ugly Kleinwort."

"Oh! Mrs. Mortomley would not then allow her child to kiss you?" commented Mr. Asherill.

"Mein Gott, no!" exclaimed the German, warming with his subject; "ten million pardons, Asherill. Mein Gott in my affluent language means not the same, by hundreds of degrees, as the same phrase rendered into English. The small miss is a company child, wearing her hair soh;"—and Mr. Kleinwort made a feint of arranging a Gainsborough fringe over his ample forehead,—"who is neither shy nor forward, but has a knowledge of les convenances customary with young ladies and gentlemen even of the smallest age, who have mixed in society since able to walk alone, and she, in answer to my petition, would have come to me. All who know Kleinwort know his weakness for children,—lovely innocents,—everything we men are not. But madam said, 'Lenore, I want you;' and, taking the tiny creature's hand, looked at me as a tigress with a cub might have regarded a hunter with a cocked gun. And Gott in Himmel knows," finished Mr. Kleinwort plaintively—, "I wanted to do no harm to child, mother, or father; only, as bad fortune would have it, poor dear Forde was rough. Like all timid, nervous people he always is rough with tender women and weak men, and so caused that mistaken little Mrs. Mortomley to put up her mane."

"What sort of person is this Mrs. Mortomley, who seems to have disturbed your friend's equanimity?" inquired Mr. Asherill, turning to Mr. Werner.

"Much like other women; there is not a great deal of difference among them," was the reply.

"Ah! is not that Werner?" remarked Mr. Kleinwort; but Mr. Asherill silenced him with an impatient movement.

"Gentlemen," he said in his best manner, "I am sorry to seem ungrateful for your kindness, but I may tell you, in a word, this is a business which will not suit me. It had better, far better, be arranged privately. Your safest policy would be to find amongst yourselves money to carry on the business. It and Mortomley must be right enough."

"The man is ill and has no stuff left in him," exclaimed Mr. Werner energetically and colloquially, forgetting in his haste what he had said previously concerning wives and doctors. Mr. Asherill, however, quietly marked a point, while he observed, "Yes."

"And there is no one left—no, not one," added Mr. Kleinwort eagerly, "but a nephew in a velvet suit, who paints poor pictures and swaggers, and in effect, if not in deed, snaps his fingers at us all; and his sister, who is going to marry a rich man, and wants to be rid of the connection, and little madam with the big temper, who thinks to fight the world single-handed, but who does not know, oh! she knows not all that means."

"And Mortomley?" suggested Mr. Asherill.

"For him we will just now, if you please, carry what you call nought," answered Mr. Kleinwort quickly.

Mr. Asherill smiled again, and mentally scored another trick; but he only said aloud,

"Nevertheless, with many thanks for your offer, this is a business I would much rather decline."

"Forde wants you to undertake it as a particular favour," remarked Mr. Werner.

"Oh! indeed."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Kleinwort; "his words were, 'Tell Asherill there can be no loss; that there must be profit, and that he will be doing me and other people, Mortomley included, a good turn besides.'"

Mr. Asherill leaned back in his arm-chair and closed his eyes; he touched the fingers of his right hand with his left, and might have looked, to those who knew no better, engaged in prayer.

Messrs. Kleinwort and Werner did know better; nevertheless, they regarded him impatiently, not knowing what turn his meditations might take, and meantime matters were pressing.

At length. Mr. Asherill unclosed his eyes and resumed an upright position.

"I cannot," he began, addressing the two men, who, for reasons best known to themselves, anxiously awaited his fiat, "do what you desire myself,—I wish I could; but there are reasons which render it impossible. Perhaps, however, my young partner, who is a perfect gentleman, may be able to help you."

He touched his bell as he spoke, and a solemn silence ensued till a clerk appeared in answer to the summons.

"Request Mr.