. In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. ” “Lucy Albert, sir. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “A lot of these people will be going presently. . . I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. “One moment, if you please!” She stopped short and looked round. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. He was—a millionaire.
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