Though Woolley did not allow that this was the cause of his defeat, he knew that he could not command himself at present, and before seeking the doctor he took a turn to collect his thoughts and arrange his plans. When he returned to the house he found the hall empty. He passed through it and down a short passage to a small room at the back, which Dr. Partridge used--especially in times of trouble, when bills poured in and he mediated a fresh loan--as a kind of sanctum. Woolley rapped at the door. To his surprise no "Come in!" answered his knock, but some one rising hastily from his chair came to the door and opened it to the extent of a few inches. It was the doctor. He squeezed himself through. His face was agitated--but then the passage was ill lit, even on a summer afternoon--his manner nervous. "You want to see me, my dear fellow?" he said, holding the door close behind him and speaking effusively. "Do you mind coming back in a quarter of an hour or so? I am--I shall be disengaged then." "I would prefer," Woolley said doggedly, "to see you now." "Wait ten minutes, and you shall," the doctor replied, taking him by the button with his disengaged hand, as though he would bespeak his confidence. "At this moment, my dear fellow--excuse me!" There was an odd tone in the doctor's voice--a tone half wheedling, half hostile. But Woolley concluded that Pleasance was with him--making a complaint in all probability; and this satisfied him. He thought that he could still depend on the doctor. With a sulky nod he gave way and returned to the lawn, and there he paced up and down, prodding the daisies with his stick. Things had gone badly with him. So much the worse for some one. When he returned he found the doctor alone in the dingy little room, into which one plumped down two steps, so that it was very like a well. "Come in, come in," the elder man said fussily. "What is it, Woolley? What can I do for you?" As he spoke his hands were busy with the papers on the table. Moreover, after one swift glance, which he shot at his assistant's face on his entrance, he avoided looking at him. "What is it?" "First," Woolley rejoined with acidity, "I should like to know whether you propose to keep that fellow in your house as a companion for your daughter?" "The tall gentleman?" "Precisely." "He is gone!" was the unexpected answer. "He is gone already. If you doubt me, my dear fellow," the doctor added hastily, "ask the servants--ask Daniel." "Gone, is he?" Woolley said gloomily, considering the statement. "Yes, he quite saw the propriety of it," the doctor continued. "He gave me no trouble." "And paid you no fees, I suppose?" "Well, no, he did not."