'No, I haven't! I have behaved with the utmost discretion. Bella thinks of me only as of a friend much older than herself.' 'I don't believe it!' 'Nonsense, Earwaker! A child of fifteen!' 'The other day you had quite a different view, and after seeing her again I agreed with you. She is a young girl, and if not already in love with you, is on the way to be so.' 'That will come to nothing when she hears that I am going to be her step-father.' 'Far more likely to develop into a grief that will waste the best part of her lifetime. She will be shocked and made miserable. But do as you like. I am tired of arguing.' Earwaker affected to abandon the matter in disgust. For several minutes there was silence, then a low voice sounded from the corner where Malkin stood leaning. 'So it is your honest belief that Bella has begun to think of me in that way?' 'I am convinced of it.' 'But if I run away, I shall never see her again.' 'Why not? _She_ won't run away. Come back when things have squared themselves. Write to Mrs. Jacox from the ends of the earth, and let her understand that there is no possibility of your marrying her.' 'Tell her about Bella, you mean?' 'No, that's just what I don't mean. Avoid any mention of the girl. Come back when she is seventeen, and, if she is willing, carry her off to be happy ever after.' 'But she may have fallen in love with someone else.' 'I think not. You must risk it, at all events.' 'Look here!' Malkin came forward eagerly. 'I'll write to Mrs. Jacox to-night, and make a full confession. I'll tell her exactly how the case stands. She's a good woman; she'll gladly sacrifice herself for the sake of her daughter.' Earwaker was firm in resistance. He had no faith whatever in the widow's capacity for self-immolation, and foresaw that his friend would be drawn into another 'frightful scene', resulting probably in a marriage as soon as the licence could be obtained. 'When are you to see her again?' he inquired. 'On Wednesday.' 'Will you undertake to do nothing whatever till Wednesday morning, and then to have another talk with me? I'll come and see you about ten o'clock.' In the end Malkin was constrained into making this engagement, and not long after midnight the journalist managed to get rid of him. On Tuesday afternoon arrived a distracted note. 'I shall keep my promise, and I won't try to see you till you come here tomorrow. But I am sore beset. I have received _three_ letters from Mrs. Jacox, all long and horribly pathetic. She seems to have a presentiment that I shall forsake her. What a beast I shall be if I do! Tom comes here to-night, and I think I shall tell him all.' The last sentence was a relief to the reader; he knew nothing of Mr Thomas Malkin, but there was a fair presumption that this gentleman would not see his brother bent on making such a notable fool of himself without vigorous protest.