THE little newspaper which Aleck had subscribed
for was a Thursday sheet; it would make the
trip of five hundred miles from Tilbury's village and
arrive on Saturday. Tilbury's letter had started on
Friday, more than a day too late for the benefactor
to die and get into that week's issue, but in plenty
of time to make connection for the next output.
Thus the Fosters had to wait almost a complete
week to find out whether anything of a satisfactory
nature had happened to him or not. It was a long,
long week, and the strain was a heavy one. The
pair could hardly have borne it if their minds had
not had the relief of wholesome diversion. We have
seen that they had that. The woman was piling up
fortunes right along, the man was spending them--
spending all his wife would give him a chance at, at
any rate.

At last the Saturday came, and the Weekly Saga-
more arrived. Mrs. Eversly Bennett was present.
She was the Presbyterian parson's wife, and was
working the Fosters for a charity. Talk now died
a sudden death--on the Foster side. Mrs. Bennett
presently discovered that her hosts were not hearing
a word she was saying; so she got up, wondering and
indignant, and went away. The moment she was

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