"You had better keep two or three sovereigns," he observed.

"I fancy so," she agreed. "There is always money wanting now, and you might not be in the way."

He looked at her across the table, and then bent down his head over the notes and gold.

Incredible as it may seem, there was something in the woman's face--though she was utterly ignorant of its presence--which touched Rupert's nature to its best and deepest depths, wringing his heart-strings.

If he had known what that something prefigured, if God had only for one moment given him prescience that night, the man's memory might have failed to hold something which shall never depart from him now till life is extinguished with it.

As it was he exclaimed,

"I would to Heaven, Dolly, I had passed all my life with you and Archie.

I should in that case have been as unmercenary and unselfish as you."

"Rather," said Dolly sententiously, "you should thank Heaven for having placed you in one of this world's strictest schools. Otherwise you might have been a simpleton like myself, or a clever idiot like dear Archie, but you would never have been a man who shall make his way to success as you intend to do."

"How shall I make my way to success?" he inquired.

"I do not quite like to say out my thought," she replied. "It is Sunday night, and what I feel may seem profane when rendered into speech.

Nevertheless, Rupert, Providence does take care of men like you. I cannot at all tell why, since I know you are no better, indeed a great deal worse than myself. You will get on, never fear; just as if the vision were realized, I can see you now in a fine place, with a rich wife."

"Stay," interrupted Rupert; "wherein this vision comes the skeleton?"

"To my imagination," she answered, "the skeleton ceases not by day or night; it is ever present,--it is Homewood with you and your sister, prosperous in your plans, and my husband, who sheltered you--dying."

"How you talk, Dolly? Archie is no worse."

"Is he not?" she replied. "If things do not soon change here, the whole question will be settled in the simplest manner possible. He will die, and there will be a funeral, and people will say,

"'Poor fellow! he held out as long as he could, and died just in the nick of time.'"

"I know one man, at any rate, who would say nothing of the kind,"

remarked Rupert, "who would be quite certain to observe, 'Have you heard about that fellow Mortomley? No. Well, he has taken it into his head to die, and left me in the lurch. And after all my kindness to him too. I declare, sir, if that man had been my brother, I could not have done more for him--but there, that is just the return I meet with from, every one.'"

The imitation was so admirable, and the words so exactly similar to those she had heard used, that Dolly could not choose but laugh.

Then she stopped suddenly and said, "It is no laughing matter though."

"What makes you think Archie is worse?" asked her companion.

"He would try to get up for a short time this afternoon, and unfortunately elected to have his chair wheeled up close to the side window. He had not been seated there ten minutes before he saw one of those men crossing from the kitchen-garden. He asked me who he was, and I was obliged to tell him. He did not make any remark at the time, but shortly afterwards said he would lie down again, and since that time he has not dozed for a moment; he has refused to touch any nourishment, and he scarcely answers when I speak to him. After the doctor saw him, he asked me whether Archie had received any shock, and when I explained the matter to him, he looked very grave and said,

"Unless his mind can be kept easy, I will not answer for the consequences."

"Then he was an idiot to say anything of the sort," Rupert angrily commented. "Never mind, Dolly, such a _contretemps_ shall not occur again. I will warn these fellows that if I catch one of them prowling about the grounds, I will horsewhip him, let the consequence be what it may. Now, have you anything more to say, for it is growing late?"

"Yes," Mrs. Mortomley answered. "I am going to send Lenore away to-morrow; my aunt Celia will take charge of her until things are settled here."

"Surely this is a very sudden idea."

"It never occurred to me until this afternoon. She has wearied and worried me, poor little mite; but I did not know what to do with her, and I probably never should have known what to do with her, had Mr.

Dean's effusion about the impossibility of his future wife remaining at Homewood, not opened my eyes."

"I understand," remarked Rupert. "You decided at once that if Homewood were an unfit residence for Miss Halling, it was still more unfit for Miss Mortomley, and I really think you are right. But who is to go with the child; am I?"

"No, Esther is to take her. I have arranged all that. They start by an early train to-morrow, and I hope Esther may be able to get back to-morrow night."

"Why cannot I take Lenore?" he asked.

"Because you ought to be here," Mrs. Mortomley replied. "Those two young men have to finish the accounts remember, and I know little or nothing about our affairs."

"I had forgotten," he remarked. "Perhaps I ought not to be away. Now, Dolly, have we finished business for to-night?"

"No, I have something more to tell you," she answered. "After you went out this afternoon, and while I was finishing my letter to aunt Celia, Esther came in and said 'Mr. Turner hoped I would excuse the liberty, but could he be allowed to speak to me?'

"Naturally I asked who Mr. Turner was, when it transpired that one of those creatures is so named. I did not know what he might want, and so told her to send him in.

"'I trust you will pardon me, ma'am,' he began, 'I have not always been in as low a position as that I now occupy, and--'

"I misunderstood his meaning, and told him that of course he must know the whole affair was miserable for us, but that I was aware if a man chose such a vocation, he must discharge the duties connected with it; and that we did not want in any way to make the discharge of those duties unpleasant to him. He waited quietly and respectfully till I had quite finished, when he first thanked me for my kindness, and then said I had mistaken his meaning.

"'I understand' he finished, 'that Mr. Mortomley intends to go into liquidation.'

"I was a little surprised at this, but told him yes, Mr. Mortomley did.

There was nothing secret about the matter.

"Then in so many words he told me he was bound to write and inform his employer that such was the case; but he went on and then paused, while I waited curiously, I must confess, for the man's manner and the expression of his face perplexed me.

"'The truth is, ma'am,' he gathered up courage to say at last, 'I have been very well treated here, and I am very sorry to see things going wrong in a house like this, and as I have seen a great deal of bankruptcy and arrangements and all the rest of it, I thought I would just make so bold as to say that if there are any things about the house for which you have a particular fancy, the sooner you put them on one side or ask some of your friends to take charge of them for you the better.'

"I declare, Rupert, I did not comprehend at first what he meant, and when at last he explained himself more at length, I was so amazed I could only say we did not think of leaving Homewood or selling the furniture, that all Mr. Mortomley wanted was time, and of course things would remain as they were and the business be continued just as usual.

"He said he was sure he hoped all might turn out as I expected, but that he trusted I would excuse his still recommending me to make arrangements for the worst.

"'And do you propose that we should do that by stealing from ourselves?'

I asked.

"'Well, everything in the place is yours to-night, ma'am, certainly,' he answered; 'that is, except for the amounts I and my companion are here for, but that will not be the case for long when once the other man comes in.'

"'What other man?' I said.

"'Why the trustee's man.'

"Then I got annoyed and told him he was talking nonsense, that once the petition was granted there would be no more 'men' at Homewood; that since the passing of the new Bankruptcy Act everything was made comparatively pleasant for people who wanted to act honestly.

"'If you will excuse my saying so, ma'am,' he persisted, 'I think you know even less about the working of the new Act than I do.'

"At that point I lost my temper.