Guy was nearly choked in uttering a 'Thank you,' which did not sound, after all, much like acceptance of forgiveness.

'Now to the real matter at issue,' said Philip: 'the application for the money, which so amazed Mr. Edmonstone.'

'I do not see that it is the point,' said Guy, 'I wanted it for a scheme of my own: he did not think fit to let me have it, so there is an end of the matter.'

'Mr Edmonstone does not think so. He wishes to be convinced that you have not spent it beforehand.'

'What would you have beyond my word and honour that I have not?'

exclaimed Guy.

Far be it from me to say that he doubts it,' said Philip; and as at those words the flash of the Morville eye darted lightning, he expected that the next moment, 'Do you?' would be thundered forth, and he could not, with truth, answer 'No;' but it was one of his maxims that a man need never be forced into an open quarrel, and he tranquilly continued--'but it is better not to depend entirely on a.s.sertion. Why do you not bring him full proofs of your good intention, and thus restore yourself to his confidence?'

'I have said that I am bound not to mention the purpose.'

'Unfortunate!' said Philip; then, while Guy bit his lip till it bled, the pain really a relief, by giving some vent to his anger at the implied doubt, he went on,--'If it is impossible to clear this up, the next advice I would give is, that you should show what your expenditure has been; lay your accounts before him, and let them justify you.'

Most people would have resented this as an impertinent proposal, were it only that doing so would have served to conceal the awkward fact that the accounts had not been kept at all. Guy had never been taught to regard exactness in this respect as a duty, had no natural taste for precision, and did not feel responsible to any person; nor if he had kept any, could he have shown them, without exposing his uncle. To refuse, would, however, be a subterfuge, and after a moment, he made an effort, and confessed he had none to show, though he knew Philip would despise him for it as a fool, and probably take it as positive evidence against him.

It would have been more bearable if Philip would but have said 'How foolish,' instead of drily repeating 'Unfortunate!'

After a pause, during which Guy was not sufficiently master of himself to speak, Philip added--'Then this matter of the thousand pounds is to be pa.s.sed over? You have no explanation to offer?'

'No:' and again he paused. 'When my word is not accepted, I have no more to say. But this is not the point. What I would know is, what are the calumnies that accuse me of having gamed? If you really wish to do me a service, you will give me an opportunity of answering these precious proofs.'

'I will' answered Philip; who could venture on doing so himself, though, for his sister's sake, it was unsafe to trust Mr. Edmonstone, with whom what was not an absolute secret was not a secret at all. 'My uncle knows that a thirty pound cheque of his, in your name, was paid by you to a notorious gamester.'

Guy did not shrink, as he simply answered--'It is true.'

'Yet you have neither played, nor betted, nor done anything that could come under the definition of gambling?'

'No.'

'Then why this payment?'

'I cannot explain that. I know appearances are against me,' replied Guy steadily, and with less irritation than he had hitherto shown. I once thought my simple word would have sufficed, but, since it seems that will not do, I will not again make what you call a.s.sertions.'

'In fact, while you profess a desire to be open and sincere, a mystery appears at every turn. What would you have us do?'

'As you think fit,' he answered proudly.

Philip had been used to feel men's wills and characters bend and give way beneath his superior force of mind. They might, like Charles, chafe and rage, but his calmness always gave him the ascendant almost without exertion, and few people had ever come into contact with him without a certain submission of will or opinion. With Guy alone it was not so; he had been sensible of it once or twice before; he had no mastery, and could no more bend that spirit than a bar of steel. This he could not bear, for it obliged him to be continually making efforts to preserve his own sense of superiority.

'Since this is your ultimatum,' he said--'since you deny your confidence, and refuse any reply to these charges, you have no right to complain of suspicion. I shall do my best, both as your true friend, and as acting with your guardian's authority, to discover all that may lead to the elucidation of the mystery. In the first place, I am desired to make every inquiry here as to your conduct and expenditure. I hope they will prove satisfactory.'

'I am very much obliged to you,' answered Guy, his voice stern and dignified, and the smile that curled his lip was like Philip's own.

Philip was positively annoyed, and desirous to say something to put him down, but he had not committed himself by any vehemence, and Philip was too cool and wise to compromise his own dignity, so he rose to go, saying, 'Good night! I am sorry I cannot induce you to act in the only way that can right you.'

'Good night!' replied Guy, in the same dignified manner in which he had spoken ever since his pa.s.sion had been surmounted.

They parted, each feeling that matters were just where they were before.

Philip went back to his inn, moralizing on the pride and perverseness which made it impossible to make any impression on a Redclyffe Morville, whom not even the fear of detection could lead to submission.

Next morning, while Philip was hastily breakfasting, the door opened, and Guy entered, pale and disturbed, as if he had been awake all night.

'Philip!' said he, in his frank, natural voice, 'I don't think we parted last night as your good intentions deserved.'

'O, ho!' thought Philip; 'the fear of an investigation has brought him to reason;' and he said, 'Well, I am very glad you see things in a truer light this morning;' then asked if he had breakfasted. He had; and his cousin added,

'Have you anything to say on the matter we discussed last night?'

'No. I can only repeat that I am not guilty, and wait for time to show my innocence. I only came to see you once more, that I might feel we parted friends.'

'I shall always hope to be a true friend.'

'I did not come here for altercation,' said Guy (an answer rather to the spirit than the words), 'so I will say no more. If you wish to see me again, you will find me in my rooms. Good-bye.'

Philip was puzzled. He wondered whether Guy had come wishing to propitiate him, but had found pride indomitable at the last moment; or whether he had been showing himself too severely just to admit entreaty.

He would be able to judge better after he had made his inquiries, and he proceeded with them at once. He met with no such replies as he expected.

Every one spoke of Sir Guy Morville in high terms, as strict in his habits of application, and irreproachable in conduct. He was generally liked, and some regret was expressed that he lived in so secluded a manner, forming so few intimacies; but no one seemed to think it possible that anything wrong could be imputed to him. Philip could even perceive that there was some surprise that such inquiries should be made at all, especially by so young a man as himself. Mr. Wellwood, the person whom he most wished to see, was not at Oxford, but was at home preparing for his ordination.

Nor could Philip get nearer to the solution of the mystery when he went to the tradesmen, who were evidently as much surprised as the tutors, and said he always paid in ready money. Captain Morville felt like a lawyer whose case is breaking down, no discoveries made, nothing done; but he was not one whit convinced of his cousin's innocence, thinking the college authorities blind and careless, and the tradesmen combined to conceal their extortions, or else that the mischief had been done at St. Mildred's. He was particularly provoked when he remembered Guy's invitation to him to come to his rooms, knowing, as he must have done, what would be the result of his inquiry.

Philip was conscious that it would have been kind to have gone to say that, so far, he had found nothing amiss, but he did not like giving Guy this pa.s.sing triumph. It made no difference in his real opinion; and why renew a useless discussion? He persuaded himself that he had left himself no time, and should miss the train, and hastened off to the station, where he had to wait a quarter of an hour, consoling himself with reflecting--

'After all, though I might have gone to him, it would have been useless.

He is obstinate, and occasions of irritating his unfortunate temper are above all to be avoided.'

One short year after, what would not Philip have given for that quarter of an hour!

By six o'clock he was at St. Mildred's, greeted with delight by his sister, and with cordiality by Dr. Henley. They were both proud of him, and every tender feeling his sister had was for Philip, her pet, and her pupil in his childhood, and her most valued companion and counsellor through her early womanhood.

She had a picked dinner-party to meet him, for she knew the doctor's conversation was not exactly the thing to entertain him through a whole evening, and the guests might well think they had never seen a handsomer or more clever brother and sister than Mrs. Henley and Captain Morville.

The old county families, if they did wonder at her marriage, were always glad to meet her brother, and it was a great pleasure to him to see old friends.

Only once did his sister, in the course of the evening, make him feel the difference of their sentiments, and that was about Miss Wellwood.

Philip defended her warmly; and when he heard that there was a plan getting up for excluding her from the hospital, he expressed strong disapprobation at the time; and after the guests were gone, spoke upon the subject with his sister and her husband. The doctor entered into no party questions, and had only been stirred up to the opposition by his wife; he owned that the Miss Wellwoods had done a great deal of good, and made the nurses do their duty better than he had ever known, and was quite ready to withdraw his opposition. Mrs. Henley argued about opinions, but Philip was a match for her in her own line; and the end of it was, that though she would not allow herself to be convinced, and shook her head at her brother's way of thinking, he knew he had prevailed, and that Miss Wellwood would be unmolested.

There was not another person in the world to whom Margaret would have yielded; and it served to restore him to the sense of universal dominion which had been a little shaken by his conversation with Guy.

'Sir Guy was a great deal with the Wellwoods,' said Mrs. Henley.

'Was he, indeed?'

'O, you need not think of _that_. It would be too absurd. The youngest must be twice his age.'

'I was not thinking of any such thing,' said Philip, smiling, as he thought of the very different course Guy's affections had taken.