"Ready?" he said, as she followed him down the dark stairs to the basement, Becky being seen for a moment flitting before them into the gloom, just as Garstang stopped at a great iron-studded door, and picked up a small basket from a table on the other side of the passage. The door was unlocked, and opened with a groan, and Garstang handed his companion the candlestick. "Don't you come in," he said; "the sawdust is damp, and young ladies don't take much interest in bottles of wine. But they are interesting to middle-aged men, my dear," he continued as he walked in, his voice sounding smothered and dull. Then came the chink of a bottle, which he placed in the wine basket, and he went on to a bin farther in. "Don't come," he cried; "I can see. That's right. Our party to-night is small," and he came out with the two bottles he had fetched, stamped the sawdust off his feet, re-locked the door, and led the way upstairs, conveying the wine into the dining-room. Ten minutes later they were seated at the table, and Garstang opened the bottle of champagne he had fetched himself. "There, my dear," he said; "you must drink my health on this my birthday," and in spite of her declining, he insisted. "Oh, you must not refuse," he said. "And, as people say, it will do you good, for you really are low and in need of a stimulus." The result was that she did sip a little of the sparkling wine, with the customary compliments, and the dinner passed off pleasantly enough. At last she rose to go. "I will not keep you long, my dear," he said. "Just my customary glass of claret, and by that time my thoughts will be in order, and I can give you my full news." Kate went into the library, growing moment by moment more excited, and trying hard to control her longing to hear Garstang's plans, which were to end the terrible life of care. It seemed as if he would never come, and he did not until some time after the housekeeper had brought in the tea things and urn. "At last," she said, drawing a deep breath full of relief, for there was a step in the hall, the dining-room door was heard to close, and directly after Garstang entered, and she involuntarily rose from her seat, feeling startled by her new guardian's manner, though she could not have explained the cause. "I have been growing so impatient," she said hastily, as he came to where she stood. "Not more so than I," he said; and she fancied for the moment that there was a strange light in his eyes. But she drove away the thought as absurd. "Now," she cried; "I am weary with waiting. You have devised a way of ending this terrible suspense?" "I have," he said, taking her hands in his; and she resigned them without hesitation. "Pray tell me then, at once. What will you do?" "Make you my darling little wife," he whispered passionately; and he clasped her tightly in his arms. CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.