Mrs. Wiles admitted that she had been cleaning up a little; unoccupied rooms do get that dirty in London. In the afternoon Wiles reads the paper or takes a walk, and sometimes Mrs. Wiles accompanies him to a picture palace. In the evening he becomes more normal again and drops into a public-house and perhaps plays a game of billiards; but even in these blessed hours, when bed is approaching and another day dies, things are not the same, for he can no longer frequent his old haunt, the Cross Keys. He went there for a little while, but had to give it up, partly on account of chaff, but chiefly because he found that he was expected to pay for everything for everybody. So now he spends his evenings in finding new houses of call, where his history is unknown, in continual fear of an old acquaintance coming in and giving him away. "Then wealth isn't an unmixed blessing?" I asked. "I wouldn't say that, sir, not yet; but it's a terrible change. What worries me more than anything else--even more than finding how many friends I've got that I'd never dreamed were friends at all--is the way that when you have money you're afraid of spending it. When I had my wages and a little over in tips I knew where I was. Now I don't know anything. As I've told the missis time and again, it's going to make a miser of me." "If you'll take my advice," I said to Wiles, "you will buy a share in some small business that will give you an interest and an occupation. You are too young to be doing nothing: you'll go to seed and get ill. Don't let money injure you: make it a useful servant and friend." "Yes; but what can I do?" he asked. "Well, we must make inquiries," I said. "There must be such things going." "And if you'll take my advice," said Naomi to Mrs. Wiles, '"you'll adopt a child; not so small as to be an anxiety, but just big enough to be a companion and a nice responsibility." Personally I wish this Australian uncle had been a decent bankrupt, for his money has done no one any good. The Zoo has lost a capable keeper; the Misses Packer and ourselves have lost a good servant; and the Wiles have lost peace of mind and any real reason for existence. CHAPTER IX IN WHICH THE TOP-FLOOR-BACK TURNS OUT TO BE AN ACQUAINTANCE AND SCHEMES ARE UNFOLDED FOR THE SALVATION OF OF AN EFFETE RACE