sums of money upon any small articles which were submitted to his judgment across the dark counter of his pawnbroking establishment, was attuned to a far loftier height than theirs in the divine realms of song. Puff, puff, puff at his cigar, the curling wreaths from which were whirled into threads of fantastic confusion by the gusts of wind, or hung in faint grey curls of beauty during a lull. The starry gleam was transferred from the lips to the fur-covered hand:-- "E' strano poter il viso suo veder; Ah! mi posso guardar mi pospo rimirar. Di, sei tu? Margherita! Di, sei tu? Dimmi su; Dimmi su, di su, di su, di su presto!" From hand to lips the starry gleam, and the soul of Mr. Moss followed the air as he puffed his weed.... "E la figlia d'un re!... Proseguiam l'adornamento. Vo provare ancor se mi stan Lo smaniglia ed il monil!" The pawnbroker broke into ecstasy. From lips to hand again the starry light, and his voice grew rapturous:-- "Ciel! E come una man Che sul baaccio mi posa! Ah! Io rido in poter Me stessa qui veder!" The last trill brought him close to Dr. Spenlove. "Friend, friend!" cried the doctor. "A word with you, for charity's sake!" Mr. Moss did not disregard the appeal. Slipping off his right glove, and thereby displaying two fingers decorated with massive rings studded with diamonds, he fished a couple of coppers from a capacious pocket, and thrust them into Dr. Spenlove's outstretched palm. He thought it was a homeless beggar who had besought charity. Dr. Spenlove caught his hand, and said,-- "No, no, it is not for that. Will you kindly tell me---- "Why," interrupted Mr. Moss, "it is Dr. Spenlove!" "Mr. Moss," said Dr. Spenlove, with a sigh of relief, "I am glad it is you, I am glad it is you." "Not gladder than I am," responded Mr. Moss, jovially. "Even in weather like this I shouldn't care to be anybody else but myself." This feeble attempt at humour was lost upon Dr. Spenlove. "You have come from the direction I am taking, and you may have seen a person I am looking for--a woman with a baby in her arms, a poor woman, Mr. Moss, whom I am most anxious to find." "I've come from the Hard, but I took no account of the people I passed. A man has enough to do to look after himself, with the snow making icicles in his hair, and the wind trying to bite his nose off his face. The first law of nature, you know, doctor, is----" "Humanity," interrupted Dr. Spenlove. "No, no, doctor," corrected Mr. Moss; "number one's the first law--number one, number one." "You did not meet the woman, then?" "Not to notice her. You've a bad cough, doctor; you'll have to take some of your own medicine." He laughed. "Standing here is enough to freeze one." "I am sorry I troubled you," said Dr. Spenlove, hurt by the tone in which Mr. Moss spoke. "Good-night." He was moving away, when Mr. Moss detained him.