of a very dear friend and is not a business man himself, he had better steer clear of the dear friend's diamond-mines, or gold-mines, or any other kind of mines dear friends want his money to put into. The late Captain Crewe—"
Here Miss Minchin stopped him with a gasp.
"The late Captain Crewe!" she cried out; "the late! You don't come to tell me that Captain Crewe is—"
"He 's dead, ma'am," Mr. Barrow answered with jerky brusqueness. "Died of jungle fever and business troubles combined. The jungle fever might not have killed him if he had not been driven mad by the business troubles, and the business troubles might not have put an end to him if the jungle fever had not assisted. Captain Crewe is dead!"
Miss Minchin dropped into her chair again. The words he had spoken filled her with alarm.
"What were his business troubles?" she said. "What were they?"
"Diamond-mines," answered Mr. Barrow, "and dear friends—and ruin."
Miss Minchin lost her breath.
"Ruin!" she gasped out.
"Lost every penny. That young man had too much money. The dear friend was mad on the subject of the diamond-mine. He put all his own money into it, and all Captain Crewe's. Then the dear friend ran away—Captain Crewe was already stricken with fever when the news came. The shock was too much for him. He died delirious, raving about his little girl—and did n't leave a penny."
