"I'm most awfully sorry. I forgot. I'm a bit beside myself, you know." Grantley shrugged his shoulders rather crossly. "I won't say another word about it." "Oh, yes, you will, Jeremy," observed Sibylla with a dangerous look. "You'll tell me all about it this moment, please." "Shall I?" Jeremy turned to Grantley again. "I expect the mischief's done now; but you needn't have lost your memory or your wits just because you're going to marry Eva Raymore." "Marrying does make people lose their wits sometimes," said Sibylla coldly. Grantley's brows lifted a little as he plumped down in a chair with a resigned air. "Tell me what you mean, Jeremy." "Well, I had to put money into the business if I was ever to be more than a clerk--if I was ever to get a partnership, you know." "And Grantley gave you the money?" "I'm going to pay it back when--when----" "Yes, of course, Jeremy dear. How much was it?" Grantley lit a cigarette, and came as near looking uncomfortable as the ingrained composure of his manner allowed. "Five thousand," said Jeremy. "Wasn't it splendid of him? So, you see, I could afford----" "Five thousand to Jeremy!" said Sibylla. She turned on Grantley. "And how much to John Fanshaw?" "You women are all traitors. Christine had no business to say a word. It was pure business; he pays me back regularly. And Jeremy's going to pay me back too. Come, I haven't done any harm to either of them." "No, not to them," she said. And she added to Jeremy: "Go and tell Christine. She'll be delighted to hear about you and Eva." "By Jove, I will! I say, I'm really sorry, Grantley." "You ought to be. No, you may do anything except shake my hand again." "I can't help being so dashed jolly, you know." With that apology he darted out of the room, forgetting his broken pledge, intent only on finding other ears to hear his wonderful news. "It's very satisfactory, isn't it?" asked Grantley. "I think they'll get on very well, you know. He's young, of course, and----" "Please don't make talk, Grantley. When did you give him that money?" "I don't remember." "There are bank-books and so on, aren't there?" "How businesslike you're getting!" "Tell me when, please." Grantley rose and stood opposite to her, even as they had stood in the inn--at the Sailors' Rest at Fairhaven. "I don't remember the date." He paused, seemed to think, and then went on: "Yes, I'll tell you, because then you'll understand. He came to me the morning of the day you--you went over to Fairhaven. While he was there, Christine's letter came. And I gave him the money because I wanted to put you in the wrong as much as I could. Oh, I liked Jeremy, and was willing to help him--just as I was ready to help old John. But that wasn't my great reason. My great reason was to get a bigger grievance against you--for the way you had treated me, and were going to treat me, you know."