"We will see," answered Markworth, defiantly; "but you will have to prove your case, my dear sir. You see I did it all by myself, and the girl was a willing agent, and of age: she is of perfectly sound mind, as she can prove in the witness-box, and how you are to get over all that evidence remains to be proved." "We'll prove it," answered Mr Trump; but although he was certainly cross, his countenance did not exhibit any strong hopes of success. "The cunning vagabond is too much for us," he murmured, _sotto voce_. "Good morning," said Markworth, blandly, to all, and he walked out triumphantly, the dowager screaming after him, "Not a penny will you get, scoundrel." In Markworth's confession he had very naturally, for his own sake, not brought up the governess's name; consequently she was excluded from all share in the conspiracy. She knew of his being down, however, and had gone out apparently for a walk while the battle was being fought in the dining-room. She wished to meet Markworth alone, and he was equally desirous to see her; so it is not surprising that a few minutes after taking such a stagey farewell of the dowager, the two met beyond the precincts of The Poplars. "Just the person I wanted to see," ejaculated Markworth, on coming up with her under the shadow of the wall, which encircled the Hartshorne mansion. "Indeed! I did not think you would be so glad to see me," replied Miss Kingscott. "Indeed I am, Clara; I wished to settle up with you. I have married the girl, and the thing's regularly _en train_ now. I have only got to get the money." "That's just what I wanted." "Well, I've got it for you." "Really?" exclaimed the governess, surprised; she had never thought that Markworth would have kept to his compact once he had got the girl off. But he was "careful about little things," as he had told Tom when he first came down to The Poplars, and he was not going to incur Clara Kingscott's hostility by breaking his agreement, even when there was nothing to force him to keep it. "Yes, really," he answered; "here's the other hundred I promised you, so you and I are quits, Clara." "Thank you," she said, turning over the notes in astonishment in her hand; "I never expected you to pay me." "Did you not. I always keep my bargains." "Do you," she replied. "You have not always done so." "Let bygones be bygones, Clara; I promised you the money, and I have paid you now, and you cannot complain." "It is the first time you ever recollected what you owed me," said the governess, bitterly. "Don't say that, Clara; let us be good friends. Our compact is now finished, and we need not rake up the past. If there is anything more I can do for you, Clara, let me know; and if it's in my power, I'll do it," said Markworth, magnanimously, for he thought the woman had still a lingering regard for him.