He heard in reply several things in which we are not interested, and one thing in which we are, rather—namely, the visit of two ladies, who inquired for him in connection with the missing child. Of course he knew at once that the ladies referred to must have been Anna and Drusilla, and the child little Lenny. He made very particular inquiries concerning these visitors merely because he liked to hear of Drusilla; and having learned all that the clerk had to tell, he thanked and dismissed him. For the next eight days Alexander occupied himself by carrying into execution all the ingenious plans he had originated for finding the child; but as none of these plans succeeded, it is not necessary to detail them. It was fated that the father should find the child when he was not looking for him, but when he was in the act of performing a piece of disinterested benevolence. And this is how it came about: Among other better thoughts that had visited Alexander on his bed of illness were certain reflections in connection with his distant relative—our poor gentleman. His mind dwelt much upon the poor usher and his half-famished family, and he reproved himself for his late strange, incomprehensible blindness, thoughtlessness and selfishness in regard to them. “A wife and six children to be fed and clothed on sixty pounds a year! Good Heaven! how could I have been so preoccupied as not to think of this when I had the power to help them—I who fling away every day of my idle and worthless life as much as he gets for his hard work and usefulness a whole year. I ought to do something for him. I ought to have done it long ago. But the question is—what to do? He is as proud as Satan, and he would not take money.” After much reflection, Alexander hit upon a plan of helping the poor gentleman without hurting his pride. It was a plan that required some considerable sacrifice on Alexander’s part; and when you hear of it I think you will say that it was generous, if not magnanimous. On Alexander’s arrival in London, and for the first eight days after that, he had been so occupied with the search for his child that he had almost forgotten his plans for the relief of poor Everage; but on this ninth day he opened his eyes in the morning with these thoughts: “I have been here more than a week, and spent all my time, energy and ingenuity in the search, and I have not found my child yet.” And then he fell into profound reverie, in the midst of which some good angel whispered to his spirit: “You have been here eight days, intent only upon finding your child and taking him to his mother as a peace offering, and all for your own happiness; and you have not once thought of the poor gentleman and his famishing family.” “No, I have not,” said Alexander to himself, “when it would have required no more than fifteen minutes to have done it either. I will find time to see poor Everage to-day, and put him out of his misery.” And he kept his word.