CHAPTER LXII.
THE CRASH, UP TOWN.
The moment Mrs.Dagon heard the dismal news of Boniface Newt's failure she came running round to see his wife.

The house was as solemnly still as the store and office down town.

Mrs.Dagon looked in at the parlor, which was darkened by closed blinds and shades drawn over the windows, and in which all the furniture was set as for a funeral, except that the chilly chintz covers were not removed.
She found Mrs.Nancy Newt in her chamber with May.
"Well, well! What does this mean?
It's all nothing.

Don't you be alarmed.
What's failing?
It doesn't mean any thing; and I really hope, now that he has actually failed and done with it, Boniface will be a little more cheerful and liberal.

Those parlor curtains are positively too bad! Boniface ought to have plenty of time to himself; and I hope he will give more of those little dinners, and cheer himself up! How is he ?" Mrs.Newt was dissolved in tears.