But what was Gerald to do next? After what that meddlesome imp of a Pod Piper had told Eleanor, it was quite evident to him that all prospect of her listening favourably to his suit was at an end, unless he could offer a frank and full explanation of the facts. He had relied upon his letter to Kelvin bringing matters to a crisis without any further impulse on his part, but that hope was now at an end, unless he could afford to wait for Kelvin's recovery at some indefinite future time. But he could not afford to wait. He had shut himself up in his own rooms, on the plea of indisposition, while awaiting the lawyer's answer, in order that he might run no risk of meeting Miss Lloyd till he knew what that answer was. But this could not go on any longer. A meeting with Eleanor was inevitable, but on what terms could they meet, unless he were prepared with some sort of an explanation beforehand? His most straightforward course would certainly have been to explain frankly to Eleanor who and what he was, and to tell her all his reasons for seeking to win her affections under a fictitious name. But he still shrank, with a repugnance which he seemed quite unable to overcome, from being the first to tell her that strange story which she must one day be told, but which, it seemed to him, his lips ought to be the last in the world to reveal. That story would deprive her of name, wealth, position--of everything, in fact, that her life had taught her to hold most dear. Not even to set himself right in her eyes, not even to free himself in her thoughts from a vile imputation, could he consent that from his hands the blow should come. That the blow must fall some day he knew quite well, but Kelvin was the man from whom it ought to emanate; and now, after what had happened, no matter how soon it came. To this conclusion had he come before writing to Kelvin, but the lawyer's answer left him exactly where he was before. Something he must do himself, or else shun Eleanor altogether: but what must that something be? Was there no middle course open to him? he asked himself; was no scheme of compromise possible by means of which, while setting himself right with Eleanor, he might be spared the necessity of becoming the mouthpiece of a revelation which, if told by him, might perchance shatter his dearest hopes for ever? After a restless and miserable night, which seemed as if it would never come to an end, he fell into an hour's sound sleep, and when he woke he seemed to see a glimpse of daylight through the midst of his perplexities. Again he took pen in hand, and here is what he wrote on that occasion:-- "Mr. Pomeroy presents his compliments to Miss Lloyd, and having something of a special nature which he is desirous of communicating to her, he would esteem it a great favour if Miss Lloyd would allow him the privilege of a few minutes' private conversation at any time and at any place that may be most convenient to her."