Philip went to the stables to tell Toomey to bring the carriage round for his sister. As he was crossing the little green on his way back to the cottage, Madge met him. Although he had not observed her approaching, his head being bowed and eyes fixed on the ground, he took the outstretched hands without any sign of surprise, without any indication that he understood the cruel significance of the ‘good-bye’ which had caused them both so much pain. Whatever hesitation she might have felt as to the course she was to pursue was removed by his first words. ‘You want to speak to me, Madge,’ he said in a tone of gentle gravity; and then with a faint smile: ‘I am better than when you saw me last, for I am free from suspense. My position is clear to me now, and I feel that a man is more at ease when the final blow falls and strikes him down, than he can be whilst he is struggling vainly for the goal he has not strength enough to reach. It is a great relief to know that we are beaten and to be able to own it. Then there is a possibility of plodding on to the end without much pain.’ She was as much alarmed by this absolute surrender to adversity as she had been by the strange humour which had prompted him to say that she was free. ‘Yes, Philip, I want to speak to you,’ she said tenderly, and a spasmodic movement of the hand which grasped hers, signified that the electric current of affection was not yet broken. She went on the more earnestly: ‘I am not going to think about the foolish things you have said to me: I am going to ask you to give me your confidence—to tell me everything that has happened during the last two days. Tell it to me, if you like, as to your friend.’ ‘Always my friend,’ he muttered, bending forward as if to kiss her brow, and then drawing slowly back, like one who checks himself in the commission of some error. ‘Always your friend,’ she echoed with emphasis, ‘and therefore you should be able to speak freely.’ ‘There is not much to tell you. The ruin is more complete than even I imagined it to be, and the fault is mine. Your friend—I ought to say our friend—Mr Beecham has made a generous offer for the business, and, with certain modifications, will allow it to be carried on under my management. This relieves us from immediate difficulties; and in a short time Mr Shield expects to have recovered sufficiently from his recent losses to be able to assist me in redeeming all that has been lost.’ ‘What gladder news could there be than this?’ she exclaimed with cheeks aglow and brightening eyes; ‘and yet you tell it as if it gave you no pleasure. Philip, Philip! this is not like you—it is not right to be so melancholy when the future is so bright.’ ‘Is it so bright? Are you forgetting how long it must be before I can repay Mr Shield? before’—— He was going to say, ‘before I can ask you to risk your future in mine, and what changes may take place meanwhile!’