"I guessed it--that's all." "You are a shrewd guesser, Miss," he said. "Yes, I am his cousin Maurice, and you are----" "Mattie Gray, his partner's daughter." "Oh! indeed!" "I have seen you once before--you brought your father, some years ago, to a stationer's shop in Great Suffolk Street." "Right--a retentive memory." "I seldom forget faces--it is not likely that I should have forgotten yours." "Why not?" "I have heard so much of you since then," was the answer, cold and cutting as the east wind that was swooping down the street that night. "Oh! have you?" Maurice walked on by her side; after a few moments Mattie said to him, "What do _you_ want with Sidney?" "Many things. I am anxious to see him--very anxious." "Your presence can but give him pain--why expose him to needless suffering by this intrusion?" "I have a hope that it will not be considered an intrusion, Miss Gray," said Maurice, stiffly. "I can see no reason why you should hope that." "I am his relation--his----" "Sir, I know what you are," said Mattie, sharply; "I know all your history, and all the harm you have done to him, and Harriet Wesden, and me." "And you!--_and you_, Miss!" he repeated harshly. "An evil action spreads evil in its turn, and there is no knowing where it may end, Mr. Hinchford," said Mattie; "yours affected my character." "I don't see that--how was that possible?" "Whilst you were playing your villain's trick on Harriet Wesden, I was searching the streets for her. I kept her secret after her return, and, therefore, could not give my employer a fitting reason for my absence from the business left in trust to me. I was discharged." "I am very sorry," said Maurice, energetically; "upon my soul, I had no idea of all the harm my folly--my villainy, if you will--had caused till now! Miss Gray, you don't know how sorry I am!" "I don't care." "Is that merciful or womanly?" "Perhaps not. But I will believe that you are sorry, if you will not accompany me further." "Miss Gray, I must come. More than ever, I am resolved to see him to-night." "Very well." They went on together, both walking at a brisk pace, Maurice a little discomfited, and with his head bent down and his hands behind him. "May I ask," he said after some moments' silence, "if he be well?" "He is well." "Blind still?" "Yes." "May I ask you, as his friend, let me say, if his means be adequate to his support?" "Ah! you have come to ask him that--to see that for yourself?" "Not exactly--it is one of many reasons." "Keep that from him, then," cried Mattie; "spare him that humiliation." "Why humiliation, Miss?" "It is humiliation, it is an insult, to offer help to the man whose life you have embittered. You that have known Sidney, worked with him in your office, professed to be his friend, should have fathomed that part of his character, at least, which is based upon his pride. Sir, I doubt if he esteem you very much, but he will certainly hate you if you talk of money."