"Told her that, did he? After the wreck, I take it, when decency obliged you all to listen to the fellow? By the Lord, but you were lucky if that's all he told her! His father would have taken advantage of the situation, and married himself into the family before you knew where you were!" It was no mere lack of moral courage that deterred John Merridew from the admission which rose naturally to his lips. He no longer regarded as inevitable the marriage to which he had consented in his agitation after the wreck, and to mention it to Ralph's father, when Ralph himself had evidently not done so in his letters, seemed an altogether needless indiscretion. He was, however, a peculiarly conscientious man, who would have much preferred to have stated the fact; not having done so, he had a curious desire to alter the fact to suit his silence; and so struck his first blow at Denis, more heavily than he intended, that very night. "No," said Nan in answer to his question. "No, I have not heard from him yet." "Not a word?" "Not yet, papa. Surely you knew? You may be certain I shall not keep it to myself when I do hear." There was a double reproach, of which her father felt his share, in the sudden bitterness with which the girl spoke. But John Merridew had now convinced himself that he had a parental duty to perform, that cruelty was the only kindness, and some little exaggeration justifiable to that end. "It is most extraordinary," he murmured. "I never heard of a more extraordinary thing!" "I don't see that at all," replied Nan, hotly. "You know what he is doing, and I know he is doing it with all his might. What time can he have for letters--digging all day--and what opportunity--living in a hut?" "But that's what is so extraordinary," pursued Mr. Merridew. "That he should have elected to stay behind to do all that!" "You know it was for my sake!" exclaimed the girl, tears in her eyes. "Oh, you are unkind to us both! He would not marry until he had something to marry on, something of his own; and there he was where people were making fortunes in a day! Whatever I may feel, you ought to respect him for doing what he has done. But it shouldn't have been necessary for him to do it, and you were the one to make it unnecessary." "I?" cried Mr. Merridew, quite taken aback. "Why, my dear child, what more could I have done?" "You might have taken him into the office; you might have promised him a partnership one day. If he doesn't deserve well of you, I don't know who does; and you know how clever he is, and how he would have worked to deserve all the more! It might have been an unusual thing to do," Nan added, with a sudden sense that she was talking wildly. "Nevertheless, I have always thought it a thing you might have done." She had, indeed, thought it for some time; but, after all, the notion had first occurred to Mr. Merridew himself; and in all the circumstances he was not disposed to suppress the fact another moment.