"Fortune has not deserted us," he said to his wife. "I shall not only be able to pay our expenses, but I shall even be able to save a little. The hours are short, the labor is light; and in time I may rise to something better." So, like a young man commencing life, he went every morning to his new duties, and returned in the evening to a peaceful and happy home. During all this time he had heard no word of Ruth or Mrs. Gordon, and the sin of which he had been guilty had not reached the public ear. His house and furniture still remained unsold, law's process being proverbially slow and tedious. At length, passing his house one evening he saw bills up announcing that the mansion and its contents were to be sold by auction in the course of a week. It was his intention to attend the auction for the purpose of purchasing a few small mementoes, toward which he had saved two or three pounds. The sale was to take place on Thursday, and on Wednesday night he was looking through the catalogue, and talking with Rachel about his intended purchases. "There are dumb memorials, dear," he said, "which from long association become almost like living friends. I shall not be quite happy till I get back my silver-mounted pipe. Tobacco has lost its flavor since I left it behind me, but I had no right to bring away anything of value, and I have always looked forward to possessing it again. Great misfortunes are easy to bear in comparison with such-like trifles." Aaron seldom indulged now in those touches of humor to which Rachel in the old days loved to listen. The Aaron of to-day and the Aaron of yesterday were the same in everything but that; the tender gayety was replaced by a tender sadness, and Rachel often thought with regret of the play of fancy which used to stir her to mirth. On this night they expected a visit from Mr. Moss, who was coming to London on business, and at about nine o'clock he made his appearance. An hour afterward Rachel retired to bed, and left the friends together. Aaron had observed that Mr. Moss looked anxious and uneasy, and being now alone with him he inquired the reason. "I expected you to tell me of it," said Mr. Moss. "Of what?" asked Aaron. "I hope there is no fresh trouble." "I am the harbinger of it, it seems," groaned Mr. Moss. "I was the first to bring you the news of the panic, and now----" "Yes," said Aaron gently, "and now? Speak low, or Rachel may overhear us." "You do not see many papers, Cohen?" "Not many." "I hardly like to tell you," said Mr. Moss, "but you will be sure to hear of it to-morrow. They never spare a man who is down. For God's sake, Cohen, don't blame me; I've never opened my lips--I'd have cut my tongue out first." "Let me know the worst," said Aaron. "It relates to me, I see. As for blaming you, set your mind at ease. You have been too good a friend to me to do anything to distress me. Come, shake hands. Whatever it is I can bear it like a man, I hope. I have passed through the fire."