"_That_ shall be made fair enough. Things have changed with me, Arnold: and I shouldn't wonder but you will some time, perhaps not very far distant, have all my practice in your own hands. I feel to be getting old: spirits and health are alike broken." "Nay, not old yet, Mr. Tamlyn. You may wait a good twenty years for that." "Well, well, we'll talk further at another interview. My mind's at rest now, and that's a great thing. If you had refused, Arnold, I should have sold my practice for an old song, and gone clean away: I never could have stood being associated with another stranger. You are going up home, I conclude. Will you come in this evening?" "Very well," said Dr. Knox, rising. "Can I go up and see Bertie?" "Not now; I'd not have him awakened for the world; and I assure you the turning of a straw seems to do it. You shall see him this evening: he is always awake and restless then." Calling for his bag at the station, Dr. Knox went on to Rose Villa. They were at tea. The children rose up with a shout: his step-mother looked as though she could not believe her eyesight. "Why, Arnold! Have you come home to stay?" "Only for a day or two," he answered. "I thought I should surprise you, but I had not time to write." Shaking hands with her, kissing the children, he turned to some one else, who was seated at the tea-table and had not stirred. His hand was already out, when she turned her head, and he drew back his hand and himself together. "Miss Mack, my new governess," spoke Mrs. Knox. "I beg your pardon," said Dr. Knox to Miss Mack, who turned out to be a young person in green, with stout legs and slippers down at heel. "I thought it was Miss Carey," he added to his step-mother. "Where is Miss Carey?" Which of the company, Miss Mack excepted, talked the fastest, and which the loudest, could not have been decided though a thousand-pound wager rested on it. It was a dreadful tale to tell. Janet Carey had turned out to be a thief; Janet Carey had gone out of her mind nearly with fever and fear when she knew she was to be taken to prison and tried: tried for stealing the money; and Janet's aunt had come down and carried her away out of the reach of the policemen. Dr. Knox gazed and listened, and felt his blood turning cold with righteous horror. "Be silent," he sternly said. "There must have been some strange mistake. Miss Carey was good and upright as the day." "She stole my fifty pounds," said Mrs. Knox. "_What?_" "She stole my fifty-pound note. It was the one you sent me, Arnold." His face reddened a little. "That note? Well, I do not know the circumstances that led you to accuse Miss Carey; but I know they were mistaken ones. I will answer for Janet Carey with my life."