{Written for the Otago Witness.)

Chamer I. "Da mortuiH ml nisi bonum." "Tell me exactly how things stand, Noel. I can see by your face that they are worse than we expected." " Worse ! it is ruin. Aye ! and I greatly fear, disgrace." The younger brother looked shocked and incredulous. The elder one leaned his elbow on the heap of papers which he had been ex amining, and resting his chin on his hand gazed upward at the face which was bent over him. "It is as I tell you. I feared it for years, but he would never trust me with all the papers, and now — sit down and I will try and explain it to you." Maurice Stretton drew a chair to the table and sat down facing his brother. Noel took up the papers and sorted them hastily ; glancing from one to the other as if in doubt where to begin. While he was still hesitating, a tap was heard at the door and a servant entered. " Please, sir, the — the undertaker's man is here." A contraction of pain crossed the young man's brow. "Let him go upstairs, Ellen, I will come." Then turning to his brother, "These can wait for a while," and with a gesture of weariness Noel Stretton rose from his seat and left the room. Maurice heard him mount the stairs with a slow lingering step, heard him enter — but not alone — the room above ; then followed those heavy yet muffled sounds, which fall upon our hearts even more than upon our ears, and the Bon knew that the hands of strangers were moving his father's coffin, bringing it down stairs ready for the funeral on the following day, and a shudder crept over him as he heard the heavy descending tread. He went up to the curtained win dow with the instinct that seeks for warmth and light, he longed to draw aside the Venetians, but the strong hand of custom restrained him ; he contented him- Belf with the glint of spring sunshine, the shimmer of green leaves that were visible between the bars, then he glanced back ward round the handsome, comfortable room, with its rich harmonious furniture of carved oak and maroon velvet. 