“Oh, yes; and I was thinking how much happier is a married man than a bachelor.”

“You will always think so, I am sure, with my dear Clemmy as your wife.  My dear Clemmy!  How naturally that phrase comes to my lips.  And you are about to take her away.  It’s a foolish thought, but I hardly know how I shall live without her.”  Mr. Whedell paused, for effect, and contemplated the vermicular work in the carpet.

“A happy thought strikes me,” said Chiffield.  “You have a house here, already furnished.  Let us occupy it free of rent, and I will pay the housekeeping bills of the establishment.  That will be mutually advantageous, and will especially suit your daughter, who, of course, has a child’s attachment for home.  What do you say to the proposition, respected father-in-law?”

Mr. Whedell did not catch at it with the alacrity that was expected of him.  “A capital plan,” said he, at length; “but, unfortunately, the house is not mine.  I only lease it.”

Chiffield’s lips puckered up.  “That’s curious,” thought he.  “The old fellow must have put his money into bonds and stocks.  Well, they are the best-paying investments.”

Mr. Whedell proceeded to break the news of his penniless condition to his son-in-law, gently.  “Mr. Chiffield,” said he, “as a wholesale dealer in dry goods, you must have observed, perhaps at times experienced, the fickleness of fortune.”

“Can he suspect?” thought Chiffield.  “And what if he does?  The truth cannot be concealed much longer.  But I will pump him a little further before disclosing all.”

“Yes,” said he; “our firm, like others, has had its ups and downs; but then, business would not be interesting without some little risks, you know.”

The easy manner of his son-in-law convinced Mr. Whedell that no “little risks” had shaken the firm of Upjack, Chiffield & Co.  “Ah, yes,” said he.  “Rich to-day, poor to-morrow—­the history of the world.  As every person may learn this by his own sad experience, some time or other, he ought to be lenient in judging of those who have become reduced from wealth to poverty.”

“Can he mean me?” thought the son-in-law.  “Faith! it sounds very much like it.  If so, his manner of broaching the subject is truly generous and delicate.”

“I agree with you,” said he, aloud.  “Money does not make the man.”  It is a safe adage, and Chiffield quoted it intrepidly.

“True—­true!” replied Mr. Whedell.  “Money is but a small item in the sum of earthly happiness.  Take the institution of marriage, for example.  What gives to that institution its blessedness—­love, or money?”

“Love,” responded the unhesitating Chiffield.

“The promptness of that reply shows that he does not expect a fortune with Clemmy,” thought Mr. Whedell.

“He must suspect—­perhaps already knows—­the truth,” thought Chiffield.  “How kind in him to spare me the least humiliation!”