"Why do you think they are?" "Well, Thornton was up yesterday, and I could see by the way he looked at me." "What rubbish, Clive! You go steadily on, and never mind looks." "Don't you think it matters?" more hopefully. "Not a brass farthing. Have you heard from your people at Rome?" "Yes, I got a letter from Kitty last night." "Well?" "Oh, nothing particular. Oliver's there. I say, there _must_ be something he could explain if one saw him. He couldn't have the brass!" "Does Miss Masters mention anyone else?" "No, I don't think she does." "Not--the Leytons?" "Didn't notice it. Are you going down to Worthing again?" "Yes, I am. To-morrow perhaps," said with gloom on Ibbetson's part. The visit to Worthing, when it did take place, had one or two results. For Jack found Smith so unmistakably worse that he went to the point of getting him to sign a declaration in the presence of one or two witnesses, as to that matter of the fifty pounds. And this being done, he had a conversation with the man Elias Brooks, also in the presence of a witness, so that he felt himself in a better position to meet Oliver Trent should it ever be necessary. But as yet he had made no sign. One day Ibbetson had another visitor in his chambers, Mrs Thornton. How she had got there was the first wonder in his mind; for she was a very helpless person, seldom going to the point of originating even an idea. "My dear, and your chimney been smoking! How can you live here!" was her greeting. "It's not a bad chimney when the wind isn't from the north," said Jack, wheeling forward a chair, and flinging the end of his cigar into the fire. "But you ought to have told me you were coming. It's _very_ good of you, Aunt Harriet." "I told no one," said Mrs Thornton, with a placid air of triumph at her own achievements, "not even your uncle Peter. But, my dear Jack, I am quite miserable about you." "How can I help it?" Jack replied gravely. He knew what she meant, and would not pretend not to understand her. "Oh, I do so wish you would go straight out and marry Phillis, before this dreadful man gets hold of her! Really, it is too provoking." There was a pause. "What have you heard? Has Phillis written?" asked Jack in his quietest tone. "Not Phillis. And that is vexing your uncle, too. He says everything is concealed from him. Mr Trent wrote and told him." Jack muttered something not complimentary to Mr Trent. Then he said aloud: "You need not believe everything _he_ says. However, I can't say, I know nothing. Phillis will not conceal anything from you, you may be sure."