‘What use are you going to make of your father’s offer?’

‘Well, I’m not quite sure, Shouldn’t wonder if I go in for filters.’

‘Filters?’

Joseph explained.  In the capacity of ’commission agent’—­ denomination which includes and apologises for such a vast variety of casual pursuits—­he had of late been helping to make known to the public a new filter, which promised to be a commercial success.  The owner of the patent lacked capital, and a judicious investment might secure a share in the business; Joseph thought of broaching the subject with him next day.

‘You won’t make a fool of yourself?’ remarked Scawthorne.

‘Trust me; I think I know my way about.’

For the present these gentlemen had nothing more to say to each other; they emptied their glasses with deliberation, exchanged a look which might mean either much or nothing, and so went their several ways.

The filter project was put into execution.  When Joseph had communicated it in detail to his father, the latter took the professional advice of his friend Mr. Percival, and in the course of a few weeks Joseph found himself regularly established in a business which had the—­for him—­novel characteristic of serving the purposes of purity.  The manufactory was situated in a by-street on the north of Euston Road:  a small concern, but at all events a genuine one.  On the window of the office you read, ’Lake, Snowdon, & Co.’  As it was necessary to account for this achievement to Clem and Mrs. Peckover, Joseph made known to them a part of the truth; of the will he said nothing, and, for reasons of his own, he allowed these tender relatives to believe that he was in a fair way to inherit the greater part of Michael’s possessions.  There was jubilation in Clerkenwell Close, but mother and daughter kept stern watch upon Joseph’s proceedings.

Another acquaintance of ours benefited by this event.  Michael made it a stipulation that some kind of work should be found at the factory for John Hewett, who, since his wife’s death, had been making a wretched struggle to establish a more decent home for the children.  The firm of Lake, Snowdon, & Co. took Hewett into their employment as a porter, and paid him twenty-five shillings a week—­ of which sum, however, the odd five shillings were privately made up by Michael.  On receiving this appointment, John drew the sigh of a man who finds himself in haven after perilous beating about a lee shore.  The kitchen in King’s Cross Bead was abandoned, and with Sidney Kirkwood’s aid the family found much more satisfactory quarters.  Friends of Sidney’s, a man and wife of middle age without children, happened to be looking for lodgings:  it was decided that they and John Hewett should join in the tenancy of a fiat, up on the fifth storey of the huge block of tenements called Farringdon Road Buildings.  By this arrangement the children would be looked after, and the weekly twenty-five shillings could be made to go much further than on the ordinary system.  As soon as everything had been settled, and when Mr. and Mrs. Eagles had already housed themselves in the one room which was all they needed for their private accommodation, Hewett and the children began to pack together their miserable sticks and rags for removal.  Just then Sidney Kirkwood looked in.