"Ive tried hard enough, God knows!--hard enough to prevent myself from thinking as you think, Charley; but all to no purpose. There is a cloud over Geoff's life, and I fear it springs from----Some one knocking. Keep 'em out, if possible; we don't want any one boring in here just now." But the knocker, whoever he was, seemed by no means inclined to be kept out. He not only obeyed the regular directions and "tugged the trotter," but he afterwards gave three distinct and loud raps with his fist on the door, which was the signal to the initiated; and when the door was opened and the knocker appeared in the person of Mr. Stompff, further resistance was useless. The great man entered the room with a light and airy step and a light and airy address. "Well, Charley, how are you? Come to give you a look-up, you see. Hallo! who's this?--Mr. Bowker, how do you do, sir?" in a tone which meant, "What the devil do you do here?"--"how are you, sir?--Well, Charley, what are you at? Going to the bad, you villain,--going to the bad!" "Not quite that, I hope, Mr. Stompff--" "Working for Caniche, eh? That's the same thing, just the same thing! Ive heard all about it. You've let that miserable Belgian get old of you, eh? This is it, is it? Gal in a cornfield and mowers? what you call 'em--reapers? That's it! reapers, and a little child. Some story, eh? O, ah! Tennyson; I don't know him--not bad, by Jove! not half bad it's Caniche's?" "Yes; that's Caniche's commission." "Give you fifty more than he's given to make it over to me. You won't, of course not, you silly feller! it's only my joke. But look here, mind you give me the refusal of the next. I can do better for you than Caniche. He's a poor paltry chap. I go in for great things,--that's my way, Mr. Bowker." "Is it?" growled old William over his pipe; "then you go in also for great pay, Mr. Stompff, I suppose?" "Ask your friend Ludlow about that. He'll tell you whether I pay handsomely or not, sir.--By the way, how is your friend Ludlow Potts?" "He's all right, I believe." "And his wife, how's she?" There was something in his tone and in the expression of his eyes which made Mr. Potts say: "Mrs. Ludlow is going on very well, I believe," in a tone of seriousness very unusual with Charley. "That's all right," said Mr. Stompff. "Going on very well, eh? Every body will be glad to hear that, and Ludlow in partickler. Going on very well--in a regular domestic quiet manner, eh? That's all right. Hasn't been much used to the domestic style before her marriage, I should think, eh?" "Whatever you may think, I should advise you not to say much, Mr. Stompff," said Bowker. "I don't think Geoff would much like hearing those things said of his wife; I'm sure I should not of mine." "N-no; but you have not a wife; I--I mean living, Mr. Bowker," said Stompff with a sneer.