letters were invariably posted in London, but in different
districts. Clover declared that he was miserable away from home,
and, without offering any reason for his behaviour, promised that he
would soon return.

Six years had since elapsed. To afford herself occupation Mrs.
Clover went into the glass and china business, assisted by her
parents' experience, and by the lively interest of her friend Mr.
Gammon. Minnie Clover, a pretty and interesting girl, was now
employed at Doulton's potteries. All would have been well but for
the harassing mystery that disturbed their lives. Clover's letters
were still posted in London; money still came from him, sometimes in
remittances of as much as twenty pounds. But handwriting and
composition often suggested that the writer was either ill or
intoxicated. The latter seemed not unlikely, for Clover had always
inclined to the bottle. His wife no longer distressed herself. The
first escapade she had forgiven; the second estranged her. She had
resolved, indeed, that if her husband did again present himself his
home should not be under her roof.

The shop closed at eight. At a quarter past the house-bell rang and
a small servant admitted Mr. Gammon, who came along the passage and
into the back parlour, where Mrs. Clover was wont to sit. As usual
at this hour her daughter was present. Minnie sat reading; she rose
for a moment to greet the visitor, spoke a word or two very
modestly, even shyly, and let her eyes fall again upon the book.
Considering the warmth of the day it was not unnatural that Mr.
Gammon showed a very red face, shining with moisture; but his
decided hilarity, his tendency to hum tunes and beat time with his
feet, his noisy laughter and expansive talk, could hardly be