CHAP. ix. EDWARD IN DESPAIR. 173 



pay the cost of the bills and advertisements. By the 

 end of the third week, he was deep in debt. Though 

 he had been earning small wages, he had never before 

 been in debt. To think of being in debt was in 

 itself an agony. What was he to do ? He was sink- 

 ing deeper and deeper, with no prospect of deliver- 

 ance. 



By the Friday of the fourth week, he had alto- 

 gether lost hope. He had taken nothing in the shape 

 of money that day. His exhibition was entirely 

 deserted. He sank into the lowest state of despond- 

 ency. About three o'clock he received a letter from 

 his master at Banff, telling him that if he did not 

 return immediately to his work, he would be under 

 the necessity of giving his employment to another. 

 "Keturn immediately?" That was impossible. What 

 was he to do with his collection ? How was he to 

 defray his debt ? 



It is scarcely to be wondered at, if, under these 

 deplorable circumstances, despair despair of the 

 worst description should have got the better, at least 

 for a time, of his over-taxed and over-sensitive brain. 

 He was in a strange place, a place which had once 

 known him, but knew him no more. His wife and 

 his five children were altogether dependent upon him, 

 though they were at present living with his aged 

 and infirm parents. He was deep in debt, for which, 

 if not liquidated, his collection would be seized, a 

 collection, rather than part with which, he would have 



