But he wrote on. On the way home he was still thoughtful. . Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s mouth dropped open. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. He could not quite make her out; a new type. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. Leastways, not on your own. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. I'm his lieutenant,—Lieutenant Blueskin.
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