He was a true gentleman, however, and as such could not bring himself to be rude to a woman. "I can give you ten minutes," he said, in a courteous tone. All this time I had been toying with my subject. I now looked in agony at a boy clerk who was perched on a high stool by a desk at the other end of the room. "If I could see you by yourself," I said, almost in a whisper. "Dawson, you can go," said Mr Chillingfleet. The boy glided off the high stool, and vanished. The moment the door was shut I took out my purse, and removing four five-pound notes, laid them on the desk beside the chief of the great house. "Good gracious, young lady, what do you mean by that?" said Mr Chillingfleet. "Those four five-pound notes are yours," I said. "I have brought them back to you." "Miss Lindley, you must explain yourself." Mr Chillingfleet's tone was no longer languid in its interest. Then I gulped down a great lump in my throat, and told the story. It does not matter how I told it. I cannot recall the words I used. I don't know whether I spoke eloquently or badly. I know I did not cry, but I am firmly convinced that my face was ashy pale, for it felt so queer and stiff and cold. At last I had finished. The story of the young clerk's temptation and disgrace was known to his chief. Now I waited for the fiat to go forth. Suppose Mr Chillingfleet refused to receive back the twenty pounds I brought him? Suppose he thought it good for the interests of business that the young thief--the wicked, brazen young thief--should be made an example of? I gazed into the kind and honourable eyes. I watched with agony the firm, the hard, the almost cruel mouth. "Oh, sir," I said, suddenly, "take back the money! Jack's mother is alive, and perhaps your mother, too, lives, sir. Take back the money, and be merciful, for her sake." Mr Chillingfleet shut his eyes twice, very quickly. Then he spoke. "You must not try to come over me with sentiment," he said. "This is not the time. A principle is involved, and I must be guided by a sense of duty. I am particularly busy at this moment, but I will give you my decision before you go. Can you wait for half an hour?" "Yes, sir." Mr Chillingfleet sounded an office gong by his side. "Dawson," he said, when the boy appeared, "show this lady into the waiting-room." The boy preceded me into a dismal little back room, furnished me with a copy of the day's _Times_, and left me. I could not read a word. I felt more and more hopeless as the moments went by. It was nearly one o'clock before I was summoned back into Mr Chillingfleet's presence.