Mrs. Gillingwater knew Mr. Levinger well enough to be aware that he would keep his word if she drove him to it; and, growing frightened at the results of her own violence, she began to whimper. “You never would be so cruel as to deal with a poor woman like that, sir,” she said. “If I’ve spoken rash and foolish it’s because I’m as full of troubles as a thistle-head with down; yes, I’m driven mad, that’s what I am. What with having lost the license, and that brute of a husband of mine always drunk, and Joan, my poor Joan, who was like a daughter to me, a-dying:—— “What did you say?” said Mr. Levinger. “Stop that snivelling, woman, and tell me.” “Now you see, sir, that you would have done foolish to send me away,” Mrs. Gillingwater jerked out between her simulated sobs, “with the news that I had to tell you. Not as I can understand why it should trouble you, seeing that of course the poor dear ain’t nothing to you; though if it had been Sir Henry Graves that I’d gone to, it wouldn’t have been surprising.” “Will you tell me what you are talking about?” broke in Mr. Levinger, striking his stick upon the floor. “Come, out with it: I’m not to be trifled with.” Mrs. Gillingwater glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes, wondering if it would be safe to keep up the game any longer. Coming to an adverse conclusion, she produced Mrs. Bird’s letter, saying, “This is what told me about it, sir.” He took, or rather snatched the letter from her hand, and read it through with eagerness. Apparently its contents moved him deeply, for he muttered, “Poor girl! to think of her being so ill! Pray Heaven she may not die.” Then he sat down at the table, and taking a telegram form, he filled it in as follows: “To Mrs. Bird, 8 Kent Street, London, W. “Your letter to Mrs. Gillingwater received. Spare no expense. Am writing by to-day’s post. “James Levinger, Monk’s Lodge, Bradmouth.” “Would you mind ringing the bell, Mrs. Gillingwater?” said Mr. Levinger, as he re-read the telegram and, placing it in an envelope, directed it to the postmaster at Bradmouth. “No, stay: I will see to the matter myself.” And he left the room. Presently he returned. “I do not know that I need keep you, Mrs. Gillingwater,” he said, “or that I have anything more to say. I shall do my best to look after your niece, and I will let you know how she goes on.” “Thank you, sir; and about the rent and the notice?” “At present, Mrs. Gillingwater, I shall dispense with both of them. I do not wish to deal hardly with you unless you force me to it. I suppose that you are in a bad way, as usual?” “Well, yes, sir, I am. In fact, I don’t quite know what I can do unless I get a little help.” “Ten pounds?” suggested Mr. Levinger. “That will tide me over for a bit, sir.”