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Farmiloe, it is to be feared, had no very profound acquaintance with his business from any point of view. True, he was 'chemist by examination, but it had cost him repeated efforts to reach this unassailable ground and more than one pharmaceutist with whom he abode as assistant had felt it a measure of prudence to dispense with his services.
With a wild curse he sped to the house, he rushed to the tradesman's door. The medicine just delivered! He must examine it he feared there was a mistake an extraordinary oversight. The bottle had not yet been upstairs. Mr. Farmiloe tore off the wrapper, wrenched out the cork, sniffed and smiled feebly. 'Thank you. I'm glad to find there was no mistake.
Farmiloe, unconscious of all about him, glared at vacancy. Whether from the angry tradesman, or from some lady with whom Mr. Farmiloe had been abrupt, a complaint did presently reach the postal authorities, with the result that an official called at the chemist's shop. The interview was unpleasant. It happened that Mr. Moreover, his accounts were not in perfect order.
Nicely dressed and well-spoken and good-looking women above the class of domestic servants he worshipped from afar, and only in vivacious moments pictured himself as the wooer of such a superior being. It seemed as though fate could do nothing with Mr. Farmiloe. It was strictly a shock; it upset his health for several days, and not for a week or two could he realise the legacy as a fact.