How many times I danced with Pilla is a great deal more than I can say; but it was very far from being to the exclusion of everybody else, as people were found to say afterwards. She, as the daughter of the house, was bound to pay proper attention to the guest who had come so far to please her brother, and would have to leave so early. And, for my part, I could not forget the duty of warm friendship to my dear old Tom. Every time she came back to me, I thought that her rich brown eyes grew brighter, and I told her how much they resembled Tom's, although infinitely more expressive. And she found me improving so fast in my steps, which had fallen into sad neglect among the furrows, that I feared to fall off again, if I failed to make the most of so rare a chance. But as to making love to her--what love had I to make? All my rights and dues of that were signed, sealed, and delivered to another lady--of a different grade altogether. But away went all a man's thoughts of homage to anything but humanity when, after I had said "Good-bye" to Pilla, and seen my bag come down the stairs, and was casting a wrapper around me, while the cabman thumped himself betwixt the doors, the sweet little creature ran up to me again and tried to speak, but only mumbled, and would have gone down with her chin upon the floor, if I had not stretched both arms to catch her. Upon them she lay, like a lamb upon a rail, with all her body quivering, and the helplessness of her slack head thrown against my dancing waistcoat. "What is it, dear child?" I asked in vain. All she could do was to spread one hand towards a big door; and then that hand fell, and she was all long hair and pink muslin. "Is there a woman here?" I called out, in terror of a fit, as I kept her from the floor; and a woman of great substance rushed up and caught her, and glared at me, as if I were a villain. "Poor lamb! Poor darling! The bad wicked man!" "Did you see how he swept her off her feet?" There were half-a-dozen handmaids now; and I left poor Pilla to them. [Illustration: "_A woman of great substance rushed up and caught her._"] Then seeing how stupidly quick they were, I went to the door she had pointed at, and with heavy misgivings entered. It was a large high room, with a lot of gilt about it, and gorgeous books sprawling upon stamped leather; but the gas was turned down, and the light of the fire flickered with gushes of shape and shadow. There was another and a darker shadow there. A dead man lay in the deep composure of a most luxurious chair; his head had fallen back against the rich morocco; and the fire that played on his dull wan eyes should warm no part of him any more,--Theophilus Erricker, a man who had made his fortune, in the rush, and kick, and pell-mell of life--by fair play, no doubt, when the rules permitted; and with kindness to his fellows, when so be it, the facts went the right way for him.