Thus did the wheel of Fortune, in its strange revolutions, bring Mr Maybury once more a modest sufficiency of Income. He had not hesitated a moment in accepting the vacant post and the additional salary, for he knew that he was quite capable of doing the work, and that he would not be receiving a penny too much for the responsibility and the trouble his new duties would involve. "I think," said Mr Maybury, just before he and his good lady fell asleep that night, "that we might now engage a cook. H. R. deserves a rest." "Very well, dear," said Mrs Maybury, quite amicably. "And then, as to Miss Bird and Mr Cleave----" "Oh, they had better stay on," interrupted Mrs Maybury; "three hundred a year, though magnificent compared to what you have been getting, is not a very great income. Miss Bird and Mr Cleave will still be a great help." "I have altered my opinion about Miss Bird," said Mr Maybury; "I am beginning to like her." "And do you still consider Mr Cleave an ’old woman’?" inquired Mrs Maybury. "I do," said Mr Maybury--"an older woman than ever. If he wants to go, I shan’t beg him to stop." Curiously enough, within a few days Mr Cleave put Mr Maybury’s declaration to the test. For, on the day Jim recovered consciousness, Mr Cleave informed Mrs Maybury that he had decided to go and live with some relatives at Norwood. Mrs Maybury said that she should be sorry to part with Mr Cleave, but Mr Maybury preserved a discreet silence on the point. And it fell out in this wise. Mr Cleave had always admired Dora, and had always exerted himself to be agreeable to her. When, therefore, Dora’s engagement with Harold Jefferson was broken off, Mr Cleave began to pay a large amount of attention to his appearance. He bought some new made-up ties and some new collars of the latest shape; also, he had his hair cut, and purchased a new pair of button-up boots. At all meals, thenceforth, he engaged Dora in sprightly conversation, and one day, meeting her alone in the drawing-room, he handed her a book. "A little present, Miss Dora," he said. "Oh, thank you, Mr Cleave," said Dora, politely. On examining the work, Dora found it to consist of _The Total Abstainer_ for the past six months, bound up in a green cover. Glancing casually through it, she suddenly came across a passage heavily marked with a blue pencil. The page on which the passage occurred was headed "Our Pillory," and directly Dora’s eye fell on the paragraph she recognised it as an old friend. "A piteous example of what over-indulgence in alcohol may bring a man to (_ran the paragraph_) was afforded by a case which came before our notice one day last week in the Kensington Police Court. The degraded being who faced the magistrate with an unabashed gaze was a young doctor named Mortimer----" Oh yes! Dora _well_ remembered a certain evening in September when Mr Cleave read this out to the assembled company in the drawing-room.