Randolph’snaturewastoohopefulandrecuperativetoallowhimtolingeridlyinthepast。Hethrewhimselfintohisworkatthebankwithhisoldearnestnessandacertainsimpleconscientiousnesswhich，whileitoftenprovokedtherailleryofhisfellowclerks，didnotescapetheeyesofhisemployers。Hewasadvancedstepbystep，andbytheendoftheyearwasputinchargeofthecorrespondencewithbanksandagencies。Hehadsavedsomemoney，andhadmadeoneortwoprofitableinvestments。Hewasenabledtotakebetterapartmentsinthesamebuildinghehadoccupied。Hehadfewofthetemptationsofyouth。Hisfearofpovertyandhisnaturaltastekepthimfromthespeculativeandmaterialexcessesoftheperiod。Adistrustofhisromanticweaknesskepthimfromsocietyandmeanerentanglementswhichmighthavebesethisgoodlooksandgoodnature。Heworkedinhisroomsatnightandforborehisoldeveningrambles。
Astheyearworeontotheanniversaryofhisarrival，hethoughtmuchofthedeadmanwhohadinspiredhisfortunes，andwithitasenseofhisolddoubtsandsuspicionsrevived。Hisreasonhadobligedhimtoacceptthelossofthefatefulportmanteauasanordinarytheft；hisinstinctremainedunconvinced。Therewasnosuperstitionconnectedwithhisloss。Hisownprosperityhadnotbeenimpairedbyit。Onthecontrary，hereflectedbitterlythatthedeadmanhadapparentlydiedonlytobenefitothers。Atsuchtimesherecalled，withapleasurethatheknewmightbecomeperilous，thetallEnglishgirlwhohaddefendedDornton’smemoryandechoedhisownsympathy。Butthatwasallovernow。
Onestormynight，notunlikethateventfuloneofhispastexperience，Randolphsoughthisroomsintheteethofasouthwestgale。Ashebuffetedhiswayalongtherain-washedpavementofMontgomeryStreet，itwasnotstrangethathisthoughtsrevertedtothatnightandthememoryofhisdeadprotector。Butreachinghisapartment，hesternlybanishedthemwiththevanishedromancetheyrevived，andlightinghislamp，laidouthispapersintheprospectofaneveningofuninterruptedwork。Hewassurprised，however，afteralittleinterval，bythesoundofuncertainandshufflingstepsonthehalf-lightedpassageoutside，thenoiseofsomeheavyarticlesetdownonthefloor，andthenatentativeknockathisdoor。Alittleimpatientlyhecalled，“Comein。“
Thedooropenedslowly，andoutofthehalfobscurityofthepassageathicksetfigurelurchedtowardhimintothefulllightoftheroom。Randolphhalfrose，andthensankbackintohischair，awed，spellbound，andmotionless。Hesawthefigurestandingplainlybeforehim；hesawdistinctlythefamiliarfurnitureofhisroom，thestorm-twinklinglightsinthewindowsopposite，theflashofpassingcarriagelampsinthestreetbelow。Butthefigurebeforehimwasnoneotherthanthedeadmanofwhomhehadjustbeenthinking。
Thefigurelookedathimintently，andthenburstintoafitofunmistakablelaughter。Itwasneitherloudnorunpleasant，andyetitprovokedadisagreeablerecollection。Nevertheless，itdissipatedRandolph’ssuperstitioustremor，forhehadneverbeforeheardofaghostwholaughedheartily。