acting on it, you are now the possessor of fifty-four shares in the allotment. As the moment for buying in is favorable, it is a thousand pities you could not make an equally profitable investment for your brother, whose twelve hundred pounds is yielding the very inglorious interest of the bank.'” “And so you took the shares?” said Hankes, sighing; then added, “But let me see,--at what rate did you buy?” “I am ashamed to confess, I forget; but I know the shares were high?” “After the Ossory run,” muttered he,--“that was about September. Shares were then something like one hundred and twenty-seven and a quarter; higher afterwards; higher the whole month of November; shaky towards the end of the year; very shaky, indeed, in January. No, no,” said he to himself, “Dunn ought not to have done it.” “I perceive,” said she, half smiling, “Mr. Hankes opines that the money had been better in the bank.” “After all,” continued he, not heeding her remark, “Dunn could n't do anything else. You own, yourself, that if he had attempted to dissuade you, you would immediately have taken alarm; you 'd have said, 'This is all a sham. All these people will find themselves “let in” some fine morning;' and as Dunn could very readily make good your few hundred pounds, why, he was perfectly justified in the advice he gave.” “Not when his counsel had the effect of influencing mine,” said she, quickly; “not when it served to make me a perfidious example to others. No, no, Mr. Hankes; if this scheme be not an honest and an upright one, I accept no partnership in its details.” “I am only putting a case, remember,” said Hankes, hurriedly,--“a possible, but most improbable case. I am supposing that a scheme with the finest prospectus, the best list of directors, the most respectable referees in the empire, to be--what shall I say?--to be sickly,--yes, sickly,--in want of a little tonic treatment, generous diet, and so forth.” “You 'll have to follow me here, Mr. Hankes,” broke in Sybella; “the pathway round this cliff only admits one at a time. Keep close to the rock, and if your head be not steady, don't look down.” “Good heavens! we are not going round that precipice!” cried Hankes, in a voice of the wildest terror. “My servant will lead your horse, if you prefer it,” said she, without answering his question; “and mind your footing, for the moss is often slippery with the spray.”