The Misses Packers' attitude to Mrs. Wiles, Naomi tells me, underwent an extraordinary change on hearing the news. That they were losing an excellent and inexpensive assistant they could not forget; and they overwhelmed her with attentions, led her downstairs with the tenderest solicitude, and plied her with tea. This was not, I am convinced, the rather ugly homage of the poor to the rich, but merely paying success its due. For the Misses Packer belong to that large branch of the human family which worships success. Mrs. Wiles had succeeded: she was worth £2000 a year; and they recognized her merit accordingly. They did not want any of her money or envy her her position at the top of the tree: they merely lit a votive lamp before her. The next day Mrs. Wiles was able to tell us more. Wiles had been thinking it over and had decided to do nothing until the estate was wound up and all the money his. He had, however, mentioned the matter to two or three of his mates in confidence; but this turned out to be one of the secrets that apparently no one ever pretends to try to keep, for by night everyone knew of it: Wiles was a millionaire; and fourteen men that he didn't like first asked him to drink and then tried to borrow five shillings. "I shall go on here too," said Mrs. Wiles. "That is, as long as they'll let me. But they do treat me so ladylike it makes me nervous, and that Miss Cole wants to find a house for me and introduce me to some of her friends. The idea! Still, it would be a nice thing to give up the place and then find the whole affair was a noax. Oh, and please, Wiles says, would you be so kind as to take care of this cheque for him--put it in your bank?" As it happened, it was no hoax, and, circumstances quickly proving too much for them, the Wiles had to become gentlefolk. The result is that Wiles has left the Zoo and wears black clothes. These are not out of respect for the avuncular gander who laid the golden eggs, but because black clothes signify a holiday, and all life is now a holiday for him. Mrs. Wiles has left us and wears a hat ten years too young for her, with cherries. They have moved to a new house in a quiet street off the Camden Town Road, where they keep a small servant; but this is a waste of money, for, in the first place, Mrs. Wiles does everything in the end, and, in the second place, their old neighbours would gladly club together to pay the girl's wages themselves, just to be kept informed at first hand of how the millionaires are going on. Naomi and I called, by invitation, to take tea with them, and we were all polite and uncomfortable, and I saw poor Wiles's eyes and thoughts wandering towards the kitchen, where he could have taken off his coat and been at his ease. I found that he had spent the morning, as I expected, at the Zoo, talking to old friends, and in fact he usually drops in for an hour every day. "Yes," said his wife, rather acidly, "can't keep away from his Barbara."