And Denry went down the obscure drive with a final vision of the poor child Nellie as she stood at the door to speed them. It was extraordinary how that child had remained a child. He knew that she must be more than half-way through her twenties, and yet she persisted in being the merest girl! A delightful little thing; but no _savoir vivre_, no equality to a situation, no spectacular pride. Just a nice, bright girl, strangely girlish! The Cotterills had managed that bad evening badly. They had shown no dignity, no reserve, no discretion; and old Cotterill had been simply fatuous in his suggestion! As for Mrs. Cotterill, she was completely overcome, and it was due solely to Ruth’s calm managing influence that Nellie, nervous and whimpering, had wound herself up to come and shut the front door after the guests. It was all very sad. When he had successfully started the car, and they were sliding down the Moorthorne hill together, side by side, their shoulders touching, Denry threw off the nightmarish effect of the bankrupt household. After all, there was no reason why he should be depressed. He was not a bankrupt. He was steadily adding riches to riches. He acquired wealth mechanically now. Owing to the habits of his mother he never came within miles of living up to his income. And Ruth—she too was wealthy. He felt that she must be wealthy in the strict significance of the term. And she completed wealth by experience of the world. She was his equal. She understood things in general. She had lived, travelled, suffered, reflected—in short, she was a completed article of manufacture. She was no little, clinging, raw girl. Further, she was less hard than of yore. Her voice and gestures had a different quality. The world had softened her. And it occurred to him suddenly that her sole fault—extravagance—had no importance now that she was wealthy. He told her all that Mr. Cotterill had said about Canada. And she told him all that Mrs. Cotterill had said about Canada. And they agreed that Mr. Cotterill had got his deserts, and that, in its own interest, Canada was the only thing for the Cotterill family. And the sooner the better! People must accept the consequences of bankruptcy. Nothing could be done. "I think it’s a pity Nellie should have to go," said Denry. "Oh! _Do_ you?" replied Ruth. "Yes. Going out to a strange country like that. She ’s not what you may call the Canadian kind of girl. If she could only get something to do here.... If something could be found for her!" "Oh! I don’t agree with you at _all_!" said Ruth. "Do you really think she ought to leave her parents just _now_? Her place is with her parents. And besides, between you and me, she ’ll have a much better chance of marrying there than in _this_ town—after all this—I can tell you. Of course I shall be very sorry to lose her—and Mrs. Cotterill, too. But..." "I expect you ’re right," Denry concurred.