Mr. Lord turned away. His daughter noticed that he walked feebly, and she felt a moment’s compunction. ‘Father--you are not so well to-day.’ Without looking round, he replied that he would be well enough if left alone; and Nancy did not venture to say more. A few days later, she called in De Crespigny Park after dinnertime. Mrs. Peachey and Fanny were at Brighton; Beatrice had preferred to stay in London, being very busy with her great project. Whilst she talked of it with Nancy, Peachey and Luckworth Crewe came in together. There was sprightly conversation, in which the host, obviously glad of his wife’s absence, took a moderate part. Presently, Miss. Lord and he found themselves gossiping alone; the other two had moved aside, and, as a look informed Nancy, were deep in confidential dialogue. ‘What do you think of that business?’ she asked her companion in an undertone. ‘I shouldn’t wonder if it answers,’ said the young man, speaking as usual, with a soft, amiable voice. ‘Our friend is helping, and he generally knows what he’s about.’ Crewe remained only for half-an-hour; on shaking hands with him, Nancy made known that she was going to the seaside next Monday for a few weeks, and the man of business answered only with ‘I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.’ Soon afterwards, she took leave. At the junction of De Crespigny Park and Grove Lane, some one approached her, and with no great surprise Nancy saw that it was Crewe. ‘Been waiting for you,’ he said. ‘You remember you promised me another walk.’ ‘Oh, it’s much too late.’ ‘Of course it is. I didn’t mean now. But to-morrow.’ ‘Impossible.’ She moved on, in the direction away from her home. ‘I shall be with friends in the evening, the Morgans.’ ‘Confound it! I had made up my mind to ask you for last Saturday, but some country people nabbed me for the whole of that day. I took them up the Monument, and up St Paul’s.’ ‘I’ve never been up the Monument,’ said Nancy. ‘Never? Come to-morrow afternoon then. You can spare the afternoon. Let’s meet early somewhere. Take a bus to London Bridge. I’ll be at the north end of London Bridge at three o’clock.’ ‘All right; I’ll be there,’ Nancy replied off-hand. ‘You really will? Three, sharp. I was never late at an appointment, business or pleasure.’ ‘Which do you consider this?’ asked his companion, with a shrewd glance. ‘Now that’s unkind. I came here to-night on business, though. You quite understand that, didn’t you? I shouldn’t like you to make any mistake. Business, pure and simple.’ ‘Why, of course,’ replied Nancy, with an ingenuous air. ‘What else could it be?’ And she added, ‘Don’t come any further. Ta-ta!’ Crewe went off into the darkness.