The old man granted his request more readily than Lucius had expected. Lucille’s illness had served as a rousing shock for the selfishness of age. Mr. Sivewright had awakened to the reflection that this gentle girl, who had ministered to him with such patience and tenderness, and had received such small requital for her love, was very necessary to his comfort, and that even his dim gray life would be darkened, were relentless Death to snatch her away, leaving him to end his journey alone. He had hitherto thought of her as young and strong, and in a manner warranted to live and thrive even under the least favourable circumstances. His eyes were opened now. The change which illness had wrought in her had impressed him painfully. For once in his life he felt the sharp sting of self-reproach. ‘Yes, let her go by all means,’ he said, when Lucius had told him his plan. ‘I daresay your sister’s a very nice person, and of course Lucille ought to make the acquaintance of your relations. She has need of friends, poor child, for it would be difficult to find any one more alone in the world than she is. Yes, let her go. But you’ll not keep her away long, eh, Davoren? I shall miss her sorely. I never knew that her absence could make much difference in my life, seeing how little sympathy there is between us, until the other day when she was ill.’ ‘She shall not be away from you more than a week,’ answered Lucius. ‘She was strongly opposed to the idea of leaving you at all, and only yielded to my insistence.’ He then proceeded to inform Mr. Sivewright of his intended journey to Rouen. The old man seemed more than doubtful of success; but did not endeavour to throw cold water on the scheme. ‘It’s a tangled skein,’ he said; ‘if you can straighten it you’ll do a clever thing. I should certainly like to know the history of that child’s birth; yet it will cost me a pang if I find there is no blood of mine in her veins.’ Thus they parted, Homer Sivewright perfectly reconciled to the idea of being left to the care of Mrs. Milderson and the Magsbys. Lucius felt that justice demanded Mr. and Mrs. Wincher should be speedily reinstated, and all stain removed from their escutcheon. Yet, ere he could do this, he must tell Mr. Sivewright the true story of the robbery, and of his son’s return; a story which would be difficult for Lucius to tell, and which might occasion more agitation than the old man, in his present condition, could well bear. ‘Let time and care complete his cure,’ thought Lucius, ‘and then I will tell him all.’ He arranged the hour of starting with Lucille, after due consultation of the South-Western timetable, which Mrs. Magsby fetched for him from the nearest stationer’s. There was a train from Waterloo at a quarter-past nine. ‘I shall come for you in a cab at a quarter-past eight,’ said Lucius decisively.