"Well, no, my dear, not exactly. But there are plenty of other things for Clyste to rout up, you see. I never was so clear from-- difficulties--as I gave Grattan and his lordship to understand. No fellow ever can go to the bottom of his affairs, you see. I always knew that whitewashing me couldn't be done. There's not money enough, and I haven't impudence enough, Una, to carry it out. So I'm going to make myself scarce again." "But, Charles--what shall you do?" "Oh, well, there are ways and means of which you don't know anything, and I know myself down among them; I was a fool to try this business. But I liked Carrie's little round face, and if I'd been a better fellow, or if being a bad fellow was the sort of thing she thinks it is, I might have tried. But _you_ ought to know a little more about it than she does, Una." "Yes, I never did see how you could marry her." "I never had a chance, Una. Blanche and I were left to the worst lot of servants ever known. Our nursemaid was a bad one to begin with. Then your mother first flattered and made much of me when I was a rough lout, and then turned upon me, and set me all across with his lordship. And then you know how things go with a fellow." Una did know, much better than it was well that she should, the hopeless history of her brother's career. "Does Grattan stick to Amethyst?" he said. "Yes, but she has refused him. She does not like him." "Well," said Charles, "it doesn't matter what she does, men will always run after her. But I say, Una, tell her to keep clear of Carisbrooke. He has made ducks and drakes with some of Carrie's money, and that was why he was so ready to consent to marry her to me. But he's regularly gone upon Amethyst in the process. Don't you know he was Blanche's first love, when she was staying away with those hunting friends of hers, the Carshaltons? He carried on with her, and spoiled her chances when she was sixteen. He always had the sort of talk to take a girl's fancy. He's a very poor lot, so tell Carrie--" "I'm here, Mr Haredale," said a resolute little voice, as Carrie Carisbrooke, pale and tear-stained, came into the room. "I've not been deceived, I always knew that you had been--a dissipated man. But Miss Haredale said you had repented, and I mean to keep my word, and to help you through your troubles; I shouldn't think of going back because of family misfortunes." "But I can't do it, Carrie," said Charles, in his odd, half-shame-faced, half-rough voice. "I can't marry you, my dear, as you'd see, if I could tell you anything about it, or if you could understand, which you couldn't--please God you never will. Good-bye." "Then didn't you ever really care for me?" interposed Carrie, with a sudden flash. Charles looked at her and then at Una, and shook his head. "I'll never forget you, Carrie," he said, "nor your having liked me. I'd have married you if I could. Good-bye, Una. Will you give me a kiss?"