parlour at Mr.  Williams giving orders in the warehouse, at the
warehousemen themselves, at the rough faces in the tan-yard,-nay, at Mike
Callaghan, who has just brought a parcel from the railway, all of them
have evidently shared in the effects of the concussion; all of them wear
a look more or less sullen; all seem crestfallen.  Could you carry
your gaze farther on, could you peep into the shops in the High Street,
or at the loungers in the city reading-room; could you extend the vision
farther still,--to Mr.  Hartopp's villa, behold his wife, his little ones,
his men-servants, and his maid-servants, more and more impressively
general would become the tokens of disturbance occasioned by that
infamous concussion.  Everywhere a sullen look,--everywhere that
ineffable aspect of crestfallenness! What can have happened? is the
good man bankrupt? No, rich as ever! What can it be? Reader! that
fatal event which they who love Josiah Hartopp are ever at watch to
prevent, despite all their vigilance, has occurred! Josiah Hartopp has
been TAKEN IN! Other men may be occasionally taken in, and no one
mourns; perhaps they deserve it! they are not especially benevolent, or
they set up to be specially wise.  But to take in that lamb! And it was
not only the Mayor's heart that was wounded, but his pride, his self-
esteem, his sense of dignity, were terribly humiliated.  For as we know,