"You know I am," Peg said calmly. "Perhaps never more than I am now when I tell you to go back to him. What's the good of holding out? He's stronger than you, and the law's on his side."

The last was a phrase culled from one of her favourite novelettes, and she thought it applied admirably. If the truth must be told she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She considered this story of Faith's as good as anything that had been written and printed and sold by the thousand. Forrester was a very good type of hero, and Faith quite the timid, shrinking heroine beloved of the novelist. As yet she had not quite a.s.signed a part to herself, but Peg had her head screwed on the right way, and she had no intention of breaking her friendship with Faith no matter what happened, or of letting her drift out of her life.

She went on in her clear, emphatic way.

"He's rich! He'll give you everything you want! He's fond of you, and the twins love him! What more do you want? Let the past be wiped out; that's what I say."

She went over to Faith and patted her shrinking shoulder.

"Cheer up, little 'un," she said, resorting to her usual slangy manner of speech, which she had dropped somewhat since she had seen so much of the Beggar Man. "It's a long lane that has no turning, you know. And it's lucky for you all that you've got a husband. If you think you could earn enough to keep yourself and those twins, bless 'em, you're mistaken. Why, they'd eat your week's wages in a couple of days and think nothing of it."

"I thought you were my friend," said Faith again helplessly. "And here you are driving me back to him. I should never have married him if I'd known what I know now. I'd rather have starved...."

"You've never tried starving," was Peg's unsympathetic response. "And you're talking silly. He's all right, as far as you know him, anyway, and what he does in business is neither here nor there, as you might say."

She considered Faith with meditative eyes; then suddenly she broke out: "Here! Will you go and live with him if he lets me come, too?"

Faith looked up with a faintly dawning hope, which faded quickly.

"He'd never let you," she said. "He wouldn't even have the twins."

"He was quite right there," Peg declared. "They'd be a nuisance. But I'm different. I could see to things for you and lend a hand in the house, too, if you like. I've a great mind to ask him--what do you say?"

"It wouldn't be so bad if you came."

"We could have a fine time," said Peg, her eyes glowing. Already she saw Forrester handing out money for her wardrobe as well as for his wife's.

Already she saw herself driving in his car and turning into a lady. She was sure she could live up to the part; she had brains, even if her education had been poor; but she had not got that inherent something which had come to Faith from her father and which made all the difference between the two girls.

"Well," she insisted, "shall I ask him?"

"If you like; but he won't let you, I know."

Peg did not believe that; she believed that Forrester would be glad to have his wife on any terms. When next she saw him she approached the subject with easy confidence.

The Beggar Man listened to her quietly and courteously, and when she had finished he smiled a little--a smile that somehow made her uncomfortable.

"It's a kind suggestion," he said, "but not possible. We shall have to live in my flat for the present, Miss Fraser"--he was always most punctilious about addressing Peg as Miss Fraser--"and I am afraid there would not be room for you." He hesitated. It was in his mind to say that in the future the friendship between the two girls would have to cease, but in the face of all that Peg had done for him he could not utter the words.

"I hope Faith will see you often," he added helplessly, man-like, saying the very opposite to the thing he wished to say.

"Oh, I dare say she will," Peg said laconically. She was not in the least offended by his refusal. If this scheme failed, she had others to fall back upon. "I'm fond of Faith, you know," she added.

"I know," said the Beggar Man. "And you have been most kind. I shall never be able to thank you for what you have done for us both."

Peg said, "Oh, chuck it!" but she looked pleased.

She went back to Faith and told her that she had failed.

"Never mind, honey," she said, when she saw the girl's disappointment.

"If at first you don't succeed, you know, try, try, try again, as they used to tell us in the copybooks; and I'm not done yet. You'll have to go off with him alone, and I'll come along later."

"I shall never go," said Faith.

It was curious how determinedly she stuck to that. Even Peg marvelled at her unexpected display of will-power. She did not understand how deeply ingrained in the girl's soul the failure and death of her father had been, or how the loss of her mother had reawakened and added to its power.

"You'll have to let the twins go, anyway," Peg said bluntly. "Why, it would be a crime to try and keep them, bless their hearts! After all the new frocks he's bought them, you ought to see!"

"I don't want to see them," said Faith pa.s.sionately, the tears rushing to her eyes. "n.o.body will ever love them as I do."

But she knew she was powerless to keep the twins with her. Mr. Shawyer came and talked to her about it. He pointed out kindly but firmly that her husband was their natural guardian now, as she herself was under age.

"He is doing and will do everything in his power for their happiness,"

he said. "He has been most kind and generous. It's all for the good of the little girls, too, and they are quite happy to go. Don't you think it's rather selfish of you to try and stand in their way?"

She gave in at last, but it almost broke her heart. She had got it into her head that if her mother could know, she would be angry with her for parting with them; all the more angry because it was Forrester who was paying for it all. Her mother had hated him, and Faith believed that therefore it was her duty to hate him also.

She broke down when it came to saying good-bye. There was a cab at the door, piled with the twins' new luggage, and Mrs. Shawyer was waiting to take them to school.

Up to the last moment they had been wildly excited and full of delight, but the sight of Faith's pale face and tears was a signal for them to give way also.

They clung to her sobbing and crying. They did not want to go, they yelled; they even kicked at Forrester when he picked them up one under each arm and carried them down to the waiting taxi.

He was annoyed with Faith for being the cause of such a scene. He went back to her when they had driven off, frowning heavily.

Faith was sobbing and looking out of the window in the direction in which the twins had disappeared--carried off by main force, so it seemed to her. She turned round and looked at her husband with flaming eyes.

"I'll never forgive you for this," she said. "It will break their hearts, poor darlings!"

"Nonsense!" he answered calmly. "Before they get into the next street they'll be perfectly happy. Mrs. Shawyer has a box of chocolates for them, and I never knew chocolates fail to dry their tears yet."

He smoothed his hair, which had got rather ruffled by the twins'

struggles to escape him.

"Thank goodness that's over," he said with a short laugh. "Now I can look after you; I've arranged that we shall go to the flat this evening and dine there. There will be no need to come back to this house again."

The tone of his voice added, "Thank G.o.d," and Faith flushed sensitively.

"This house is good enough for me," she said quickly. "And I am not going to your flat."

He laughed.

"Silly child. I thought you liked it so much."

"I thought I did--then. I've changed my mind." She tried to pa.s.s him.

"Please let me go; I want to speak to Peg."

The Beggar Man stood immovable.

"Peg is not in the house," he said quietly. "She is not coming back any more."