"I believe you, and that lost Robert only wants proper surroundings to give him a chance. See! We are going to educate that other Robert. I love my brother, Theodora, and we will work together to make him happy in spite of himself, and the other evil powers that now hold him in thrall." "O, thank you! Thank you, David! I never had a brother, but have often longed for one. You are a true Godsend to me." "With God's help I will be! Your father's home is in Bradford?" "Yes, he lives in Hanover Square, Bradford. Any one will tell you where the Rev. John Newton lives." "I will leave by to-night's train. I will tell them all--for McNab has told me all--and your father will send his advice back by me." With this comfort in her heart Theodora did not feel afraid, though she had stayed until the night had fallen. Mr. Oliphant took her home in his carriage, and Robert was compelled to thank him for his courtesy; but he followed his wife into their parlor with a dark countenance, and asked her angrily, "why she put herself under obligations to people like the Oliphants?" "Are there any objections to the Oliphants?" she asked. "My mother has never trusted them, never. And you know this." "Your mother trusts no one." "Where is Ducie?" "She is attending to David's supper." "Call her!" "Will not a little later do?" "No, I want her now." "Ring the bell, then." He looked astonished at the order, but he obeyed it. Theodora had sat down. Her face was sad and stern, and her eyes flashed so angrily he did not care to encounter them. In a few minutes Ducie appeared. She came in smiling and curtsied to her master when he said: "Ducie?" "Yes, sir." "You were told to leave this house forever, at half-past three this afternoon. Why have you not done so?" "The party who told me was not my mistress." "Am I your master?" "I suppose so." "Then listen to me. Here is your quarter's wage. As you are a young girl, I will not send you to the street now that it is dark. You may stay until eight o'clock to-morrow morning. Then you will go." "I shall go to-night, sir. I will not take a favor from you, though I have done this house many favors." "Robert, Robert!" cried Theodora, "consider what you are doing. Ducie, do not go away yet--for David's sake--let me keep Ducie, Robert." "David will go to school in the autumn. He wants no nurse." "Then let her stop until autumn. Robert, dear Robert, I entreat you that I may keep Ducie." "After her impertinence to my mother, it is impossible. You ought to feel that." "_Oh dear, oh dear!_" Theodora covered her face with her hands, and burst into passionate weeping. Immediately Ducie was at her side comforting her. "Don't, ma'am. Please don't cry. Ducie knows it is not your fault." Then Theodora unfastened the brooch at her throat and drew a ring from her finger.