John Allen Dale winced as if some one had struck him a blow. The strong, determined jaws met tightly, but he said nothing. "I’m going up again in November," Rupert continued. "And I know I shall pass. It’s not an idle boast, guv’nor. I can, and I will." The old man laid his hands on the young man’s shoulders. He spoke bravely and proudly, yet there was a tremor in his voice: "Rupert, lad, I know you’ve done your best, and I’m not blaming you. It’s a severe blow because—well, you’d better know now—the money’s come to an end! I’ve pinched and screwed, gladly; but the savings of the last fifty years have all gone. They were little enough. The farm doesn’t raise enough to keep us in food and clothes. I’ve even had to raise money and mortgage the old place. I couldn’t pay your fees for the examination again, much less your board and lodging in London." "I know," Rupert replied gently, though he had not dreamed it was as bad as that. And once again remorse seized him. Once again he wondered what he would have done if it had not been for Ruby Strode. He would have died a coward’s death and left his father and sister to suffer shame and dishonour. It was some little time before he could find his voice and tell his father that he need not worry about the money. "I don’t want you to question me, guv’nor, but I’ve had a bit of luck and made enough to keep myself for another year or two in London. I can let you have plenty to go on with, too." "Not borrowed money, not made by gambling?" John Dale asked. "But I needn’t ask you, Rupert. It was money honestly earned, I know." Rupert dared not confess how he had obtained it. "It came through a friend," he said unsteadily. "I can’t tell you more now, father, but I will one day. I only want you to know that you needn’t worry. I shan’t fail you. I promise." Dale took his son’s hand in his great, horny fist and pressed it tightly. "I know that, I know that, my boy." The first thing Rupert did with the money Ruby had given him was to repay Despard the twenty-five pounds he owed him. The second was to hand Marjorie fifteen pounds—ten for housekeeping expenses, and five for herself. She was overwhelmed, and at first refused to take it. To her it seemed like a fortune. "You needn’t tell the guv’nor," Rupert said, "though he knows I’ve made a bit. But if he’s in want of anything just buy it for him—say it’s a present from me. Get yourself a nice frock and some pretty shoes."