"You are a brave girl," he said briefly. "The world would be a better place if there were more like you in it. Well, what took place is this. Staunton won heavily at cards the night before last. Not content with his gains, however, he persevered until the luck turned against him. Before he left the gambling saloon he had lost all his gains, and was in debt fifty pounds. To meet that debt he drew your mother's money from the bank yesterday morning." "I know," said Effie, with white lips--"mother told me. She sent Agnes to the bank to cash a small check. Agnes was told that George's account was overdrawn. Yes, I know that. Is there more behind? Surely that must be the worst." "Alas! I wish it were. This morning the poor fellow, while engaged in his duties at Gering's office, met with the temptation for which he was so ripe. It was a horrible one. He knew that your mother had not a penny. His feeling for her I need not enter upon. He found himself in the room with an open till, and took fifty pounds out of it. Soon afterwards, he made an excuse to leave the office. He wandered about all day in an indescribable state of misery. At last he summoned courage to go to the bank and deposit forty-five of the fifty pounds. He then rushed home, and, packing his things, prepared to run away. He said he was certain to be taken if he stayed, and simply could not bring himself to face the risk. He went to Waterloo, and to his horror discovered that he was watched. A man, undoubtedly a detective in plain clothes, was following him from place to place. The man watched him take his ticket for Southampton, and noticed the corner in which he deposited his bag in a third-class carriage. George seemed to lose his head at this crisis. He managed to elude the detective, slipped out of the station, took a hansom and drove straight to my rooms. Luckily I was at home. He made a clean breast of everything to me. He is in my rooms now, and safe for the time being, for no one will think of looking for him there. I want you to come with me at once to see him, for there is not a moment to be lost in deciding what is best to be done." "Yes," said Effie, "I will come." She felt stunned--her keenest feelings of anguish were lulled into momentary quiet by the greatness of this blow. "I will write a note to Agnes," she said; "she is out--I had to send her to the hospital to say that I could not return there to-night." Then she added, her face turning whiter than ever, "If my mother knows of this, it will kill her." "Your mother is the person to be considered, of course," said Lawson. "But for her, I should say that the best thing possible for George would be to undergo the punishment which he merits. As it is, however, matters are different. Well, write your note, and let us be quick. That strong opiate will keep your mother sleeping quietly until the morning. All your sister has to do is to watch her."