"She has but you and me, Alfred, as protectors; and she needs protection. She is surrounded by temptation. I am growing very old; my strength may fail me any day, and you may be called upon suddenly to play the part of guardian to her. You are young for it." "But I'm strong enough, don't fear, grandfather. Lily will be all right; I'll see to that! I'll take her away from the music-hall soon. I don't like her being there----" "You forget, Alfred, she earns our living." "Yes, I know; but it isn't to be expected that she should always do that." "I am glad to hear you say so. Yet you yourself are doing but little at present; you only earn----" "Fifteen shillings a week. I know! Tickle and Flint are the stingiest old brutes in London. Of course I can't do much out of fifteen shillings a week. I must have clothes, and other things; and I can't help spending a shilling or two, and somehow or other it all goes. I must do as other young men do. I asked Tickle and Flint for a rise once; but the old screws shook their heads, referred to the agreement, and told me not to ask again." "They were right. If you are industrious and painstaking, a prosperous future is before you." "O, but it's too slow!" exclaimed Alfred, with an impatient shake of the head. "I am bound to them for three years more before I can make a start. It's preposterous! Never mind, I'll show them! I know a way." "What way?" asked the old man suddenly, looking at his grandson. "Never mind now," replied Alfred evasively. "You'll see by-and-by." "There is but one way," observed the old man quietly--"the straight way. Alfred, go to the cupboard, and bring me a small iron box you will see there." A sudden paleness came over Alfred's face. "A small iron box, grandfather?" he echoed, with a curious indecision, and with a nervous trembling of the lips. "Yes," said the old man sadly; "you know the box. You have seen it many times." Alfred hesitated for one moment only, and then, as if much depended upon prompt action, walked swiftly to the cupboard, and taking out a small iron box, laid it before his grandfather. The old man took a key from his pocket, and put it into the lid, but did not turn the lock. "I daresay," he said, slowly and distinctly, "you have often wondered what was in this little box. Every house, every family, has its skeleton. This box has contained ours." "Why speak of it to-night, grandfather?" asked Alfred, nervously. "Surely it is time to go to bed. Leave this matter till to-morrow."