"You are right, Mrs. Streightley," he answered; "I do come from your husband; from one who, let me assure you, has never for one hour ceased to repent the sin which drove you away from him as bitterly as he has mourned your loss." She became exceedingly pale, and spoke the next words with some difficulty. "Is it true, Mr. Yeldham, that my husband has suffered heavy losses--that he is no longer a rich man?" "It is quite true," he replied; "and it is part of my business here to tell you a fact which I have always believed would have pleaded with you, had you known it. Robert had sinned grievously against you; but I am sure, had you known that when you left him ruin was hanging over his head, you would have regarded that as sufficient punishment. In itself it has been heavy, but to him as much lighter than that which you have inflicted as his love for you is greater than his care for his wealth. May I ask when and how you learned this, Mrs. Streightley?" "Very lately--only a few days ago. I accidentally met a Mr. Stallbrass, a person whom I had no recollection of ever having seen, and whose name I had certainly never heard. This gentleman, it seems, had seen me--once--" here she hesitated, and turned paler still,--"and he recognised me. He told Dr. Hudson that he had done so, but gave his word of honour to my kind friend that he would never mention the circumstance. He told him all he knew concerning my husband's affairs, being under the impression that ours was a separation by mutual consent, and that I was in possession of the facts." Katharine paused, and a fresh strong hope sprang up in Yeldham's heart; a hope in which he saw the realisation of happiness for Robert far beyond any thing he had dared to dream of for him. With its fresh impulse in his voice, he said eagerly: "And tell me, I entreat you, what effect had this disclosure upon you?" "Tell me first, Mr. Yeldham, what message do you bring me from my husband? Yet--no," and she stretched her hand towards him to stay his eager answer; "not so, I owe him much: I owe him reparation for pride and passion, for blind resentment, for selfishness and ungovernable self-will, and I will make it. Before I hear my husband's message, let me tell you mine to him." A small ivory box stood near her on a table; she drew it towards her, and took from it a sealed letter, which she held in her hand while she spoke. Yeldham listened to her with a painful intensity of attention, and marked with wonder the varying beauty of her sensitive face. "It is written here, in this letter, which I should have sent to him three days ago, but that a few hours after I had written it I learned how you had sought me out, and that you would come to seek me again. Then I resolved to wait; for I knew whatever communication my husband had charged you with would form the answer to my letter, and it would be better to receive it thus."