comfortable creed, that in one less sweet-natured would have made for
selfishness.

"I'm sure that'll be very nice, my dears," was her invariable comment on
any programme suggested by the young men; and there was a legend in the
family that Killigrew--or Joseph, as his mother always called him in
full--had once said to her: "How would it be, mother, if I were to
murder the Guv'nor and then take you round the world with me on the
money? We could settle in the South Sea Islands, and I'd marry a darky
and you could look after the picaninny grandchildren?" To which Mrs.
Killigrew had responded: "Yes, dear, that will be very nice; and on your
way, if you're passing the fishmongers', will you tell him to alter the
salmon for this evening to cod, as your father won't be in to dinner?"

Mr. Killigrew was a thin, pale man, not at all the typical prosperous
merchant, with a skin like the shiny outside of a cold suet pudding, a
high wall of forehead, and the thin-lipped mouth of a lawyer. Perhaps it
was because of that mouth he was such a successful trader, while the
brow provided him with enough philosophy to bear gladly with a child so
different from himself--always a hard blow to egoism.

Mr. Killigrew approved of Ishmael; he liked his keenness on whatever
appertained to his trade as an agriculturist, and he himself being
concerned in the import of several tropical fruits and products, went
with the young man to the great Horticultural Show at South Kensington,
while the scornful Joe betook himself to the races; and Mrs. Killigrew,
though she declined both outings, was sure that they would be very nice.

They were--though Killigrew lost so much money that he was afraid to
come home and spent the night imbibing champagne and repentance at the