His wife was surprised to see the placid humour in which he descended to the breakfast-table. He did not eat much, it is true, but all his appearance of despair had vanished, until she began to think she must have been mistaken, and that his mood of the night before had been due to the cause to which he had ascribed it--over-fatigue and worry. Mr Crampton being about to start for the Highlands that evening, there was a good deal to arrange before they parted, so Henry Hindes went off in good time to the city, and for the rest of the morning was immersed in business. The appearance of the poor father in his deep sables, and with his lowered tones and depressed air, did prick his conscience a little, but the influence of the morphia was still upon him, and a few glasses of wine soon dispersed the feeling. The first thing which renewed the discomfort of the night before, was the fact of Mr Crampton leaving the office, to seek that of his solicitor, Mr Throgmorton. Henry Hindes knew what he was going for, and tried to prevent him. ‘My dear friend,’ he said, in an expostulating voice, ‘I hope you are not thinking of putting the idea you mooted to me yesterday into execution. You must not, indeed. You will give me great pain if you do, for I neither deserve it, nor desire it.’ But the old man would not listen to him. ‘My dear Hindes, I shall tell you nothing about my intentions. They are locked in my own breast. I do not know but that I shall not take your advice after all. My wife, as you reminded me, has many needy relatives who will be thankful to be remembered in my will. But you acknowledge the necessity for an alteration. You will come and see us off from Euston, at eight o’clock this evening, won’t you? I know that my wife and Miss Bostock would be grieved to leave without shaking hands with you.’ ‘I will be there, without fail,’ replied Hindes, as he walked to the office door with his partner. ‘What a terrible change in Mr Crampton, sir,’ remarked the clerk, who was waiting to speak to him on his return. ‘Do you think so, Mr Davidson?’ said Hindes, mechanically. ‘Think so, sir? Why! it’s the talk of the whole office. There’s death marked in the poor gentleman’s face. He won’t be with us long, sir, I feel sure of that.’ ‘I trust you are mistaken, Davidson. Mr Crampton’s going away for change to Scotland to-night, and will not return to business until his health is quite restored.’ ‘I hope it may be, sir; I hope, I’m sure, with all my heart, that it may be, for Mr Crampton’s been very good to all of us; but if you ask me my opinion, I don’t believe he’ll ever come back at all.’ ‘Well, I didn’t ask your opinion, Davidson,’ replied Mr Hindes, fretfully; ‘and as Mr Crampton has the very best of advice, I think we may safely leave him in the hands of his doctor.’ ‘Oh! yes, sir, of course; and I hope I haven’t said too much. But he does look very bad indeed--not like the same gentleman,’ repeated the clerk, as he went back to his work.