CHAPTER II.
THE RICH MAN'S CHILD.
The world is very big, and contains hundreds of millions who are strangers to each other.

Yet every now and then this big world seems to turn small; so many people whose acquaintance we make turn out to be acquaintances of our acquaintances.

This concatenation of acquaintances is really one of the marvels of social life, if one considers the chances against it, owing to the size and population of the country.

As an example of this phenomenon, which we have all observed, William Hope was born in Derbyshire, in a small parish which belonged, nearly all of it, to Colonel Clifford; yet in that battle for food which is, alas! the prosaic but true history of men and nations, he entered an office in Yorkshire, and there made friends with Colonel Clifford's son, Walter, who was secretly dabbling in trade and matrimony under the name of Bolton; and this same Hope was to come back, and to apply for a place to Mr.Bartley; Mr.Bartley was brother-in-law to that same Colonel Clifford, though they were at daggers drawn, the pair.
Miss Clifford, aged thirty-two, had married Bartley, aged thirty-seven.
Each had got fixed habits, and they soon disagreed.

In two years they parted, with plenty of bitterness, but no scandal.