gabble and search for pearls. So the interesting survival made his groping way westwards, in order to dress for dinner. The fog was extremely dense, and the light from the street-lamps was not sufficient to pierce the thickness that lay between them, so that a man following the curb of the pavement had passed out of range of one before he came within range of the next. Dim shadows of people suddenly loomed large and close, and as suddenly vanished into the fog. In the roadway omnibuses and cabs proceeded at a foot-pace, some drivers even leading their horses; here a hansom had gone utterly astray, and was at a standstill on the pavement, being backed slowly off into the road. Through the dense air sound also came muffled and subaqueously; it was like a city in a dream. At the corner of Bond Street a man, walking faster than is usual in a fog, ran into Ginger just below a gas-lamp, and apologized in a voice that struck him as familiar. The next moment he saw who it was. 'Pray don't mention it,' he said. 'I thought you were in America, Mr. Bilton.' Bilton peered at him a moment, and recognised him also. 'Really, Lord Henry, if it was necessary for me to run into someone, I should have chosen you. At the present moment I may be in Australia for all I know. Is this London, and if so, what part?' 'Corner of Bond Street,' said Ginger. 'Which way are you going?' 'South Audley Street,' said the other; 'I'm going to see your father, in fact, about the sale of Molesworth.' 'Are you going to buy it?' asked Ginger. 'No; but I have been asked to communicate direct with him about it. The intending purchaser wants me to see about doing it up.' 'I am going that way too,' said Ginger; 'let us go together. Walking is the only way. You know, we don't know who the intending purchaser is.' 'That so?' asked Bilton. 'Well, there's no reason any longer for secrecy; it's Lewis S. Palmer.' 'Lewis Palmer?' asked Ginger. 'Yes; pity your father didn't ask an extra ten thousand.' 'He would have, if he had known who the purchaser was,' said Ginger candidly. 'Do you know if Mr. Palmer means to live there?' he asked. 'No more than he means to live on the new Liverpool and Southampton line.' 'Ah! he hasn't got that through yet,' said Ginger, with a sudden feeling of satisfaction that there had been considerable difficulties in getting the Bill through the House last session. There had really been no reason why it should not have been passed, except that the Commons objected to it merely because the line was practically to belong to a man who was not English. Bilton laughed a short, rather shoulder-shrugging laugh. 'London is the last place to know what happens in London,' he said. 'The Bill was passed this afternoon. Lewis S. Palmer owns that line as much as I own my walking-stick. He could sit down on the up-track and Mrs. Palmer on the down-track, and stop all traffic if he chose. You don't seem to like it.'