and three daughters. Everything indicated comfort and wealth; the room was furnished with tasteful elegance; a bright fire blazed on the hearth; and the group had evidently settled down for an evening of quiet domestic enjoyment.

"I think we may all congratulate ourselves," said Mr. Bennet, as, with his book in his hand, he drew his easy chair a little nearer the fire, "that we have not to turn out on such a night as this."

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Yes, indeed we may, papa," exclaimed several of the young people simultaneously.

Just then a ring was heard at the front-door bell, and in a few moments a servant entered, and said to Mr. Bennet, "If you please, sir, there is a young person wishes to see you. She says her name is Gilmore."

"Gilmore-Gilmore!" said Mr. Bennet; "I ought surely to remember that name. Oh, now I recollect. But surely it cannot be the same!"

He rose from his seat immediately, and went into the dining-room, where the servant had told him the young person was, and found there a girl of nineteen or twenty. She was poorly clad, but her whole appearance betokened some degree of education and refinement, and any one might have seen at a glance that she had known better days.

"If you please, sir," she said, with a quivering lip, and with her eyes full of tears, "papa wished me to come to you and to say that we are in deep distress and want. He was very reluctant to send me to you, but he really knew of no one else to whom to apply. He thought you would kindly assist us a little."

"What is your name, my good girl?" asked Mr. Bennet. "Gilmore, sir; and my father's name is Edward Gilmore. He said you were clerks together five-and twenty years since."

Mr. Bennet, as we shall see by-and-by, had good reason to remember Gilmore, and good reason to be surprised that he should send in his trouble to him. However, necessity has no law; and as a last resource, Gilmore had sent to the man whom of all others in the world he had most deeply injured.

Mr. Bennet made some further inquiries, and then said, "You seem tired and faint. I will order you a little refreshment, and then I will go with you to see your father."

"Thank you, sir, very much," said the poor girl; "but that, I am sure, is far more than my father expects, and especially on such a night."

"As to that," he replied, "I hope I shall take no harm." A servant was then despatched for a cab, and in the meantime Mr. Bennet went back into the drawing-room and told Mrs. Bennet that he was under the necessity of going out. It was a case of urgent distress, he said; but he would explain all about it afterwards.

It was a

The girl gave the address to the coachman. house in a poor, narrow street in the neighbourhood of the Mile End road, and the house itself was one of the poorest in the street. Mr. Bennet found Gilmore very ill, and, indeed, almost on the verge of the grave, and in great destitution. They had sold everything they could possibly dispose of, in order to procure the barest necessaries of life. His wife and daughter had earned a little by sewing; but it was very little; and as they were somewhat in arrears of rent, their landlord was wishful to get rid of them, and had actually given them notice to quit.

"It is very kind of you to come in this way, Mr. Bennet," said Gilmore; "I could not have looked for it."

Mr. Bennet gave Mr. Gilmore something for present wants, and as long as the poor man lived he ministered liberally to his necessities. He visited him several times again, and requested a Christian minister who resided in the neighbourhood to visit him. The family were of course deeply grateful; and almost the last words which the dying man spoke were a request to his wife to convey his best thanks to his kind and generous friend.

"Papa," said Mr. Bennet's eldest daughter, one evening after the events we have narrated, "you promised to tell us something about the poor man who died recently at Mile End. You told us that he was mixed up with your early life, and we have been very curious to know how it was. Have you any objection to tell us?"

The rest of the young people expressed themselves equally wishful to hear about it.

"It is rather a long story," replied Mr. Bennet; "and it calls up some painful experiences, but at the same time some great mercies. If you'll draw your chairs round the fire, I'll tell you all about it.

You have sometimes heard me say that I had a some

what rough beginning of life. I only just remember my poor father, for he died when I was very young. I don't think he succeeded well in business, for he left my mother all but penniless; but I have every reason to believe that he was a good man. My dear mother always spoke of him with great respect and love; and I have some letters of his which he wrote to her before they were married and during his occasional absences from home, which breathe the spirit of a true Christian.

"My mother-one of the best women that ever lived, and the kindest of mothers-had a hard struggle to get bread for us and to give me education. She took in plain sewing, besides letting her best rooms to lodgers. She never would admit it, but I have no doubt that her hard work had much to do with her premature death.

"When I was fifteen years old, a situation was found for me at Grote and Mansell's, in the City. I recollect to this day, as if it were only yesterday, with what delight I took home on the Saturday night my first week's wages, and told my mother that surely she would not need to work so hard now. It was only five shillings; but it seemed to me almost a fortune. She was as pleased as I was; not so much for the sake of the money, I am certain, as because I had got into a situation where there was a likelihood of my getting a living for myself, and of making my way in the world. I believe that then she had quite made up her mind that her life would not be a long one.

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She lived, however, till I was eighteen. You have seen her Bible-that little worn Bible which is in my dressing-room. She gave it to me just when she was about to die, begging me to keep it for her sake, and never to part with it. She entreated me very earnestly to give my heart to the Lord Jesus; and she counselled me in all troubles and sorrows that might ever befall me to put my trust in God, and to seek him in prayer. It was the best counsel she could possibly have given me; and I had soon good reason to acknowledge its wisdom.

"When my dear mother died, I went to lodge with Mrs. Williams, whom you all know. She had been an old servant of our family, and had nursed me when I was a child, and I remained with her till I got a house of my

own.

"I got on very well at Grote and Mansell's-far better than I could ever have hoped to do. When I was only

nineteen they made me assistant cashier. I was thus brought into immediate contact with Mr. Gilmore, who is just dead, and who was the head cashier. The appointment involved me in a good deal of trouble; but, thank God, I got through it unharmed, and eventually it issued in my more speedy advancement.

"The firm had great confidence in Mr. Gilmore; but I had soon reason to suspect that their confidence was entirely misplaced.

"Your brothers know how things are managed in our office "—this was said by Mr. Bennet to his daughters

"with respect to seamen going long voyages; and we had the same plans in Grote and Mansell's. As you don't go to the office, I will explain. The sailors who were absent for any length of time were allowed to draw a little money before they went, and also to have advance notes, which they left with their families, and which were paid monthly during their absence. We kept blank printed forms for the acknowledgment of the money they received before they went away. These were filled up at the time the money was advanced, and signed by the parties to whom it was paid. By means of these forms Gilmore contrived to defraud a great number of the seamen of sums which, in the aggregate, must have made up a large amount. And this is how he did it: he filled up the blank for the money with pencil, and afterwards, having rubbed out the figures so made, he filled up the space with a larger sum, written with ink, entering the larger amount in the cash-book, and pocketing the difference. As the final settlement between the firm and their seamen did not take place till they had returned from their respective voyages, and as seamen are not usually the most exact in money matters, he took for granted that even if they recollected the precise sums they had drawn, if not convinced that they had drawn larger sums by the production of their own receipts, they would at least be silenced.

"One day Mr. Sharman, the captain of a vessel about to sail to China, drew 201. In the course of an hour after he had received the money he returned, and asked for Gilmore. It so happened that he had gone to dinner, so I asked if there was anything which I could do for him. He explained, rather apologetically, that he had drawn 201., and he should be glad if he might be allowed to have an additional 5l. I stepped into Mr. Grote's private office,

and asked what I was to do. 'Oh,' said Mr. Grote, immediately, 'let him have the money; but you need not take a fresh receipt, you can put it on the other.'

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I went to the receipt file, and on looking at the one which Mr. Sharman had signed, I found, to my surprise, that it was for 251.; and on referring to the cash-book, I found the same sum entered there. 6 Why, Mr. Sharman,' I said, 'you have got 251. already.' 251.!' he replied; 'no, that I did not. I've the money here, in my purse, just as I got it-three five-pound notes and five sovereigns.' So saying, he pulled it out, and counted it over on the table. I then showed him his receipt. He did not care, he said, in somewhat stormy fashion; he had not got a penny more than 20%.

"Just then Gilmore returned. He coloured a little on hearing what was the matter; acknowledged at once that the captain had received only 201.; wondered how ever he could have made such a stupid mistake; then professed to remember that he had paid 251. to another party at the same time, and supposed he must have confounded the two. He then handed Mr. Sharman the 57. additional, telling him, as he did so, that the receipt might, of course, stand as it was.

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Nothing more was said, and the thing passed over; but it left a somewhat uncomfortable impression on my mind, which was deepened by an altercation I could not help overhearing, about two months after, between Gilmore and another of the captains, who declared that he had received no such sum as that put down in the receipt to which his signature was attached. However, the poor captain was obliged to submit, although evidently quite certain that he was wronged.

"I suppose Gilmore must have noticed some involuntary glance of mine, which made him suspect that I had guessed how matters really stood. Be that as it might, from that time he became my bitter enemy. At first he treated me coldly and rudely, with the evident purpose of compelling me to seek another post in the office; and I actually went to Mr. Grote to ask him to remove me, but he said he would much rather I remained where I was. Then Gilmore changed his tactics. He professed to be my friend, said I was fit for something better than my present situation, and offered to help me to procure employment in a house which was just commencing business, and in which