“He will be back in two or three weeks: you will then be able to see him.” She hesitated for a moment, and then went on doubtfully, “I have been deeply touched by your kindness.” “Yes?” he said inquiringly. “That it has been the greatest help to me I need hardly say; but I have had so many expenses this winter, it was inadequate to meet them all.” “I don’t quite understand?” He was becoming interested. “There are some weeks yet before the next quarter is due. I am staying in a country-house, and the expenses I have to meet——” “What country-house?” “Walter and Florence Hibbert’s. It is a cottage most charmingly situated in Surrey.” “I suppose it costs you nothing to stay there?” “They have been most kind. But they are now abroad, and, naturally, I have appearances to maintain and the necessities of the table to provide.” “For whom? Only for yourself, I suppose? You have not a large establishment.” His thin fingers wandered beneath the papers on the table, as if they were seeking for something. They found it, and drew it a little forward. Aunt Anne, following the movement with her eyes, saw the corner of a cheque-book peep out from beneath the blotting-paper. “You have not a dozen servants?” he asked ironically. “I have only one servant”—she was getting a little agitated. “And yourself?” “And some one who is with me.” “And doesn’t the some one who is with you keep you? or do you keep her?” and he pushed back the cheque-book. Aunt Anne was silent for a moment. “I suppose it doesn’t cost you anything to live. What do you want money for?” He put his hands on the arms of his chair and looked at her. “William,” she said, “I cannot discuss all my expenditures, or enter into every detail of my household”—and there was as much pride in her tone as she dared put into it. “I came to ask you if you would have the great kindness to advance the quarter’s allowance you are so kind as to give me. It will be due——” “Quarter’s allowance I give you? I don’t understand. I told you some time ago that I was not in the habit of giving away money. I believe you had some of your own when you started in life, and if you made away with it that is your own business.” “But, William, I am speaking of the hundred a year you have allowed me lately through Mr. Boughton.” He was fairly roused now, and turned his face full upon her. There were cruel, pitiless lines upon it, though she fought against them bravely. “I have allowed you no hundred a year,” he said angrily, “and I intend to allow you none. Do you mean to tell me that Boughton has paid you a hundred a year on my account?” “I understood so,” she gasped, shaking with fright. “I suppose he had some reason for it. If he has done it out of his own money, it is his own business. If he has done it out of mine, I shall have a reckoning up with him, and probably you will have one, too.” “But, William, have you been under the impression that I was left to starve?”