So loving Her darling little head Close here would nestle "Thy will be done,” To own His hand- To guide us by his power Where we shall see Our own dear treasure Clad in angel wings; Join in her praises; Share with her, her pleasure; SEEPE-N. FRANK HARDY. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES OUR HERO. THE office of Masters and Co., Grayling Court, was one of those decidedly dowdy-looking buildings which, by their exterior would never awaken the least suspicion of the large business carried on within their walls a house of four stories, once the abode of respectable domestic life, come to the fate of so many of its class in London. Here, years ago, was played out the drama of many a life. Up and down these well-worn stairs-now trodden by people with anxious faces and burdened forms-tiny feet have pattered; and that room, where now about the only thing ever heard is the scratching of the pens of busy writers, once echoed to the sounds of childish glee and youthful gaiety. In No. 4, on the left, children have been ushered into life; from No. 5, their parents have been carried out to their last earthly resting-place; and in this very room, the grandfather of John Masters, senior partner in Masters and Co., began and ended his career. How sad these old houses look! What is it that imparts this air of human sorrow? The places are busy enough-every room is occupied by hard workers the livelong day, and yet they appear dejected, desolate. The reason perchance lies in this: that we do not find in them the kind of life we naturally associate with them, and failing that, we unconsciously invest their inanimate forms with the melancholy arising within ourselves as we contemplate their fallen condition. In spirit we see chubby cheeks pressing the now dim and dirty window-panes; we see the Sedan chair halt for its dainty burden as a lady in feathers and farthingale descends the stone steps; we see the gentleman in kneebreeches and extensive shirt front shut the door when she has taken her seat-and in short-the ghosts of old-world life do so haunt them that we sigh over their departed glory. Our business, however, is with the life of to-day, such as we shall find it within. Room No. 1, on our right, which bears a brass plate on the door, with the one word, "private," engraven upon it, is the sanctum of the head of the firm before-mentioned. Here Masters, Sen., carries on the most important business of the "house." Assisted by a junior but confidential clerk, he arranges the great financial operations which are the fame of the firm, and also conducts a very extensive correspondence. Seated at a desk is a young man about 19 years of age, apparently very much occupied with the ledger lying before him. Indeed, so intent is he upon his work, that he is not aware that another person has slipped into the office, and now stands behind him looking over his shoulder. This is a man of middle age, and when his face is in repose, strikes you as one whom you would not willingly trust. As he scrutinises the work of the other, however, his features are not at all in repose, but undergo a series of such lively contortions as produce a corresponding series of the most absurd grimaces conceivable. A smile, a pout, a grin, a frown, a leer, pass across his mobile countenance in rapid succession. Contempt, incredulity, malice, and simulated delight in turn take possession of his face. These are accompanied by suitable and emphatic pantomine, so that you may be pardoned for wondering whether the fellow is going out of his mind, and your fears for the young man in front of him are quite excusable. This private rehearsal is destined to receive a sudden interruption, for just as his feelings appear to reach such a pitch of intensity that he raises himself upon his toes and vigorously shakes his fist at his companion's head, a tap at the door causes him to approach his shaking fist too close to the shoulder of the writer, with which it comes into unpleasant contact; the clerk, in his turn surprised by a blow so totally unexpected, starts, and flings back his left hand, which, as it happens to hold a ruler imports a smart crack to the cranium of the interloper, and the cranium being bald resounds to the blow like a pumpkin. "Mister Hardy!" exclaims the elder, with exasperation in his tone. "Mister Downer!" bursts from the lips of the younger in great astonishment. "Perhaps, young gentleman, the next time you play at single-stick you will select somebody else's head to practice upon.' "And perhaps, Mr. Downer, the next time you have business with me you will not enter this room as a sneak, but give some intimation of your presence, and so spare your feelings in more senses than one." Business, young gentleman"-(and Mr. Downer appeared to think there was exquisite satire in the phrase "young gentleman ")" brought me into the room; and had you been attending to yours, or rather that of your master, you had spared my head a blow, and my eyes a most offensive spectacle." "Mr. Downer! if listeners hear no good of themselves, peepers, it appears, see none." "And how long have your exalted talents been devoted to caricature, young hopeful? "Oh! just long enough to enable me to draw a man with the foot of a cat and the head of a sheep without doing violence to nature." "Ah! if some people had a little more ability and a little lessbut I won't mention the word." "You wouldn't say 'cheek' now, Mr. Downer, would you?" "Not for the world, Mr. Hardy; not for the world!” How much longer this conversation might have continued, and how much hotter it might have become will never be known; for just at this point, the person who had unwittingly caused it by a tap at the door, growing impatient, and not a little curious to know the reason of the high words within, repeated the rapping, and almost at the same instant opened the door, and thrust in a freckled face surmounted by a shock of red hair, and bawled out: "If you please, sir, there's a party waiting, sir!" "A party of how many, Jim?" said Mr. Downer, instantly composing himself. "Now, Jim, attend to me! Your mother keeps a mangle, I believe?" "Yes, sir," from Jim, very dolefully. "And your present muscular development is due in some measure to that fact; that is to say, you have been accustomed to turn the handle for her?" 66 Please, sir, yes, sir." "And you are very anxious to go back to that manly exercise?" "Oh, lor, sir! No, sir!" With great spirit for one so apathetic as Jim. "Then, how many times am I to tell you that one person is not a party?" Jim scratched his head and looked down. Now, Jim, who is waiting? Take care now!" "Please, sir, it's a man, sir." Jim! (think of the mangle, now) who is waiting ?" "Well, sir, he ain't dressed like a gent, nohow." "Show the gentleman in, Jim; and recollect that none but gentlemen come to this office." While Jim retires to perform the office of usher it may be as well to clear up the mystery-if indeed any now remain-of Mr. Downer's antics as he stood behind the young clerk's stool. Figures (arithmetical) could not have caused the agitation we have witnessed, but figures of another kind engaged the busy fingers of Frank Hardy, and, as we have seen, so engrossed his attention, that he was oblivious to the entrance of the elder clerk, and, consequently, went on with the writing of the letter before him, in which he was just indulging a boyish caprice in a description, both verbal and pictorial, of the man behind him, in a manner more free than flattering. Now, human nature can stand a great deal, but it is perhaps expecting a little too much that a man should look with equanimity upon a caricature of himself, in which a horned head and cloven foot point a too obvious insinuation; and on such had Mr. Downer gazed of his own free will, and it proved quite too much for his nature. This offence, coming with the too candid expression of Hardy's opinion, proved a crowning act of contumacy which the other never forgave. From that day forth the relations of the two men were sealed. Determined enmity on the part of Downer, and thorough contempt on the side of Hardy. But, re-enter Jim, followed by a man of such remarkable exterior that even an older head than his might have been excused a doubt as to his gentility. "Good morning, Mr. Downer," said the new comer, "I have brought you the money." "All the money?" enquired Downer. "Three hundred pounds," replied the man. "It should be five hundred. Why haven't you brought the other two?" "Because I have not been able to raise the whole sum, and I must ask you kindly to wait a little longer." "We shall not wait after to-morrow, Quirks, but shall proceed according to the agreement." "Then, Heaven help me; for I am a ruined man," exclaimed he, with a sigh." "Heaven helps those that help themselves,' they say, Quirks; so you know where to look for assistance. The money, to-morrow, or we proceed to sale. Good morning!" And the man went out (knowing of old the futility of appealing) when he had taken the receipt which Hardy had in the meantime prepared. The money consisted of notes, which Frank handed to Mr. Downer, after counting them himself. "Six fifties! Quite right," said he, returning them. lie on Masters' desk till he comes in," and left the office. "Let them CHAPTER II. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. AT ten o'clock, punctually, Masters, sen., enters his room; for, though a man of great wealth, he is one of those who think that while a man remains in business he should strictly attend to it. Seated at his desk, spectacles on nose and pen behind his ear, he counts over the three hundred pounds before him, and placing them on one side proceeds to open and read certain letters left there for the purpose, and dictates to Frank replies in due form. After that, he pegs away at his books as if his life depended upon his own hand labour. After about two hours' application the old gentleman looks up and enquires of Frank if any other calls have been made before his arrival. Receiving a negative, he requests him to bring to him the deed box, "F 45," from the safe behind him, at the same time handing the key : "Now find me a packet marked John Froude, to Benjamin Quirks." After turning out some six or eight parcels he comes to the right one, a bundle of deeds wrapped in paper and tied with red tape after the manner of solicitors. Receiving further instructions, Frank unties the papers and selects one for Mr. Masters' reference, which is presently returned to him, and with the others tied up and replaced in the box. In about an hour from this time Masters, sen., rises from his chair, |