In fact, as she was off the honourable sisters' hands, and their expenses were lessened, Ruth's name was not often mentioned except during Mr Paul Montaigne's periodical calls, when, after walking across from Teddington, that gentleman would sip their tea and sigh, as he blandly alluded to the ingratitude of the world, and the fact that the servants at Lord Henry's had been instructed to say "not at home" whenever he called. Often and often bland Mr Paul Montaigne would gnash his teeth when alone, and vow vengeance, but somehow Marcus Glen's threat had had so great an influence upon him that the thought thereof would make him pale and nervous for twenty-four hours after, and quite spoil his night's repose. But he heard merely with a grim smile that Captain Glen had become a constant visitor at Lord Henry Moorpark's, and that his lordship gave Ruth Allerton away upon a certain happy day, for it is a world of change, and the time had come when Ruth's cousin could think quite calmly of the past. The calm was not without its disturbance, though, for as Lord Henry sat one evening sipping his port and wondering whether he might not now go up and join the ladies, he heard a carriage stop at the door; there was a thunderous knock, a terrific peal at the bell, and directly after the old butler entered. "Mr Elbraham, my lord. I have shown him into the library." "Hang Mr Elbraham!" said his lordship to himself; but feeling that the visit must be one of importance, seeing how little intercourse they had, he followed the butler into the library, where the financier was walking hastily up and down. "Ha, Elbraham!" he said, "come into the dining-room. I was having my port." "Port, eh? Ah, yes! my throat's like a limekiln;" and, following Lord Henry into the dining-room, the butler placed fresh glasses, and the financier gulped down a couple as quickly as he could. "Why, it's an age since we met," said Lord Henry. "Good job for you," said Elbraham, mopping his red face and bald head. "Clo's a regular devil. Is she here?" "Here!" said Lord Henry. "Oh no! she has not been here for a long time." "Then she _has_ bolted!" "Has what?" cried Lord Henry. "Bolted, Moorpark--bolted, damn her! Left a note for me saying she was going to dine with her sister, and I took the bait, till, thinking it a good opportunity to go and look over her jewels, hang me if they weren't all gone!" "Her jewels gone?" "Yes; and that made me suspicious. I went down directly and was going to ring, when I ran up against our buttons." "Ran up against your buttons?" said Lord Henry wonderingly. "Yes: the page-boy--with the large travelling-case in his hand. `Hullo, you sir,' says I, `what have you got there?' "`A case missus said I was to take to Cannon Street Station, sir, and meet her there; and I've been waiting about for ever so long and couldn't see her, sir, so I thought I'd better bring it back!'