“Are you sure, then, of having come into your fortune? Has the old fellow shown so much confidence in you? All the better for me. Your generosity in that way will always be fully appreciated. But I would not trouble about Liverpool; they’re used to such losses. It does them no harm, only makes up for the salaries they ought to pay their clerks, and don’t.” “Don’t speak so lightly, Edmund. You cannot feel it. To make up to those you have--injured--” “Robbed, if you like, but not injured. That’s quite another matter. I don’t care a straw for this part of the business. But money,” he said, “money is always welcome here.” A sigh which was almost a moan forced itself from her breast. “You shall have what you want,” she said. “But, Edmund, for God’s sake, if you care either for yourself or me, go away!” “You would do a great deal better to introduce me here. It would be safer than Spain. And leave it to me to make my way. A good name--you can take one out of the first novel that turns up--and a few good suits of clothes. I might be a long-lost relative come to console you in your distress. That would suit me admirably. I much prefer it to going away. You should see how well I would fill the post of comforter--” “Don’t!” she cried; “don’t!” holding out her hands in an appeal for mercy. “Why,” he said, “it is far the most feasible way, and the safest, if you would but think. Who would look for an absconded clerk at Highcourt, in the midst of family mourning and all the rest of it? And I have views of my own-- Come, think it over. In former times I allow it would have been impossible, but now you are free.” “I will not,” she said, suddenly raising her head. “I have done much, but there are some things that are too much. Understand me, I will not. In no conceivable circumstances, whatever may happen. Rather will I leave you to your fate.” “What!” he said, “and bring shame and ruin on yourself?” “I do not care. I am desperate. Much, much would I do to make up for my neglect of you, if you can call it neglect; but not this. Listen! I will not do it. It is not to be mentioned again. I will make any sacrifice, except of truth--except of truth!” “Of truth!” he said, with a sneer; but then was silent, evidently convinced by her tone. He added, after a time, “It is all your fault. What was to be expected? I have never had a chance. It is just that you should bear the brunt, for it is your fault.” “I acknowledge it,” she said; “I have failed in everything; and whatever I can do to atone I will do. Edmund, oh, listen! Go away. You are not safe here. You risk everything, even my power to help you. You must go, you must go,” she added, seizing him firmly by the arm in her vehemence; “there is no alternative. You shall have money, but go, go! Promise me that you will go.” “If you use force--” he said, freeing himself roughly from her grasp.