Then he told her a story between the lines of which she was easily able to read. He had evidently clung to his post at the office with a pitiable tenacity: it was something for him to do; it was a remnant of the old accustomed order of things; in so far, it was a consolation, and it kept him going. He had been many years with that particular firm of lawyers. The principal was a kind-hearted man, and had always treated him well, and when, within the last month or two, it was found that Oriole’s work was always going wrong, was full of mistakes, and that he constantly forgot the commissions or pieces of writing entrusted to him, Signor Gismondi began to make inquiries. He wished to be kind and considerate, but business had to be thought of. The result of the inquiries discovered to him that Oriole had come into some property, which placed him in an independent if very modest position, and above want. There was then no need for further scruples. Signor Gismondi sent for his gray-headed clerk, and, as kindly as he could, intimated to him that his services were to be dispensed with--a new and a younger man was to be engaged in his place--after Easter, when he pleased--_ecco_! A last rag of pride and sensitiveness sent a red flush into Signor Giuseppe’s cheek. With a bow, the majesty of which good Signor Gismondi could not have attained to, had he practised for twenty years, Oriole intimated that it was just the same to him when he left--to-day, to-morrow, next week. If they had not already engaged the services of someone else, he was willing to wait just to accommodate them, as long as they liked. Signor Gismondi seized eagerly upon this opening for softening the blow, and assured Giuseppe that he would confer a very great favour upon them by remaining for another week, until they had looked about them for a person suitable to replace him. Agreed! Signor Giuseppe was in much better spirits that week, being under the impression that he was really doing a favour to the firm of Gismondi e Nipoti. But when the week was over and the occupation gone, oh! then was Signor Giuseppe to be pitied. Well for them who, reduced to such a condition of drifting loneliness, have one compassionate eye fixed upon them--only one! They may be saved. It is such as he, reduced perhaps a stage lower in grief and hopelessness, who, looking round instinctively in a last effort to find something which shall encourage them to remain in the world, and failing to do so, meeting no outstretched hand, seeing no eye which has any attention in it for them--such as these it is who, lingering near the river, some evening or other plunge into it, or who purchase their dose of poison, and, after keeping it for a time, suddenly swallow it, or discharge the pistol which has been long loaded and ready, or who infallibly find some gate or other open, through which they can creep out of one blackness into another that is yet darker.