He did not hear of the fire until late in the following night. He hastened to the spot, and found the house in ruins. It was quite midnight before he ascertained where Lily had found refuge, and when he learnt that they had gone to live in a house very near to that occupied by Mr. Musgrave, he smiled complacently. "I could not have hoped for anything better," he thought. Before noon the next day he was at the house, overwhelming them with expressions of sympathy and with offers of assistance, all of which were gently declined by Old Wheels. "We want for nothing, thank you," he said smilingly. "But," urged Mr. Sheldrake somewhat coarsely, "I am told you were burnt right out, and hadn't time to save a stick." "You were told right; we did not save a stick." "Then you want a friend," persisted Mr. Sheldrake. "We did," said Old Wheels, "and one came--the best of friends." Burning to know who this best of friends was, Mr. Sheldrake put the question direct, which Old Wheels parried by saying, "I don't think he would like us to speak of it, and I shall please him, I believe, by not mentioning his name." There were in the room only the old man and Lily and Pollypod, and not one of these enlightened Mr. Sheldrake. When the old man spoke of this best of friends, Pollypod chimed in with enthusiastic declarations, and said, in her childlike way, that he was so good, so good! "He seems to be a favourite with all of you," observed Mr. Sheldrake. "He is a wizard," said Pollypod from her corner; "a good wizard. Father says he's a trump, and mother loves him. So do I, dearly, dearly. So does Mr. Wheels. So does Lily--don't you, Lily?" Mr. Sheldrake turned suddenly and sharply upon Lily. A deep rose-tint had stolen into her face, and, for contrast, a dark cloud overshadowed Mr. Sheldrake's. Not a motion, not a look, escaped Old Wheels, who said, "Yes, we cannot help having an affection for one who has been so kind to us." "Of course not, of course not," assented Mr. Sheldrake, concealing his displeasure, "and I consider myself particularly unfortunate in having been deprived of the opportunity of standing in his place. Then I might have had the same claim upon your affection. It is the more unfortunate because I am so often in the habit of strolling about Soho during the small hours. Many a time have I walked up and down your street for an hour at least after midnight. Now what hard fortune was it that prevented me doing so on this occasion?" He intended these words to convey a significant declaration of his tender regard for Lily, and he added, in a low tone, addressed especially to her: "I went home not very happy because I thought you were angry with me for what occurred at the theatre. I hope you are not displeased with me now. Indeed, I was not to blame."