THE FEET OF CLAY. Time did nothing to soften the severity of the blow which had fallen upon the shareholders of the Glasgow Bank; rather, with every day as it passed did the situation become more hopeless and terrible. Defalcations of three years' standing left a deficit so abysmal that nothing short of the uttermost farthing could hope to fill it, and even the enormous preliminary call spelt ruin to many small holders, of whom Robert Gloucester was one. When every copper which he possessed had been realised, he was still far behind the amount demanded, and a bill of sale was issued on his household effects. To Mr Goring the disaster came at once as a shock and a confirmation of old fears. He found himself in the position of being able to say "I told you so"; but there was little pleasure in the advantage when the chief sufferer was his dearest child, and the transgressor so humble and penitent as his son-in-law. His chief grief was that, owing to decreasing income from his own investments, and the expenses of two big sons at Oxford, he could not increase the allowance of two hundred a year which he had regularly contributed towards the Gloucester _menage_. Jean expected him to offer to buy her furniture at a valuation, but, to her intense disappointment, he made no such proposition. "Get rid of the things as best you can--they'll sell well, or ought to, considering the price Robert paid. They wouldn't fit into a small house, and you'll want a different style of thing altogether--plain, simple furniture, that can be kept in order by less experienced maids. All these curios and odds and ends are very well in their way, but they mean work--work! There'll be no time for dusting old china and polishing brasses. Get rid of them all, and I'll see what I can do towards helping you to a fresh start. We have been looking through the rooms at home, and there are a lot of odds and ends which we can share. You'll have to lie low for a time, and be satisfied with usefuls; but I'll see that you are comfortable, my dear. I'll see to that." "Thank you, sir, thank you indeed," cried Robert warmly. "It's most good and kind of you. You have always been most generous. You are quite right about this furniture, it would be unsuitable under the new conditions. It's all one to me--I don't notice these things, and Jean has been heroic about it all--she doesn't mind either. She's quite prepared for the change. Aren't you, dear?"