Mr. Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. “Can't say,” he replied; “but I should think two or three weeks would be enough for 'er to reckernize me by. If she don't, we must wait another week or so, that's all.” “Well, there won't be much o' your share left, mind that,” said Mr. Kidd, glowering at him. “I can't help it,” said Mr. Gibbs. “You needn't keep reminding me of it.” They walked the rest of the way in silence; and for the next fortnight Mr. Gibbs's friends paid nightly visits to note the change in his appearance, and grumble at its slowness. “We'll try and pull it off to-morrow night,” said Mr. Kidd, at the end of that period. “I'm fair sick o' lending you money.” Mr. Gibbs shook his head and spoke sagely about not spoiling the ship for a ha'porth o' tar; but Mr. Kidd was obdurate. “There's enough for 'er to reckernize you by,” he said, sternly, “and we don't want other people to. Meet us at the Monument at eight o'clock to-morrow night, and we'll get it over.” “Give your orders,” said Mr. Gibbs, in a nasty voice. “Keep your 'at well over your eyes,” commanded Mr. Kidd, sternly. “Put them spectacles on wot I lent you, and it wouldn't be a bad idea if you tied your face up in a piece o' red flannel.” “I know wot I'm going to do without you telling me,” said Mr. Gibbs, nodding. “I'll bet you pots round that you don't either of you reckernize me tomorrow night.” The bet was taken at once, and from eight o'clock until ten minutes to nine the following night Messrs. Kidd and Brown did their best to win it. Then did Mr. Kidd, turning to Mr. Brown in perplexity, inquire with many redundant words what it all meant. [Illustration: “Gone!” exclaimed both gentlemen. “Where?”] “He must 'ave gone on by 'imself,” said Mr. Brown. “We'd better go and see.” In a state of some disorder they hurried back to Wapping, and, mounting the stairs to Mrs. Gibbs's room, found the door fast. To their fervent and repeated knocking there was no answer. “Ah, you won't make her 'ear,” said a woman, thrusting an untidy head over the balusters on the next landing. “She's gone.” “Gone!” exclaimed both gentlemen. “Where?” “Canada,” said the woman. “She went off this morning.” Mr. Kidd leaned up against the wall for support; Mr. Brown stood open-mouthed and voiceless. “It was a surprise to me,” said the woman, “but she told me this morning she's been getting ready on the quiet for the last fortnight. Good spirits she was in, too; laughing like anything.” “Laughing!” repeated Mr. Kidd, in a terrible voice. The woman nodded. “And when I spoke about it and reminded 'er that she 'ad only just lost 'er pore husband, I thought she would ha' burst,” she said, severely. “She sat down on that stair and laughed till the tears ran dowwn 'er face like water.” Mr. Brown turned a bewildered face upon his partner. “Laughing!” he said, slowly. “Wot 'ad she got to laugh at?” “Two born-fools,” replied Mr. Kidd. GOOD INTENTIONS