First, Mr. Deane, engaged to Antonia Halling; second, the doctor in attendance on Mr. Mortomley; third, a creditor of the estate, who professed to know nothing of business or business matters, and who in lieu of his solicitor begged permission to bring with him a certain Mr. Cressy who knew much about the City and City people, who had been connected with many rotten Companies, and who, having already let his friend in for a thousand pounds, was extremely anxious to see another thousand pounds liberated from Mortomley's estate which he might employ for his personal benefit once more. When Mrs. Mortomley beheld the materials she had hoped might collectively compass temporal salvation seated round the dinner-table at Homewood, her heart sank within her. "Better I had invited my dear Bohemians," she thought. "They at least would have given me their sympathy." And she was right. Excepting the creditor, who, knowing nothing about the City, expected that bankruptcy meant money repaid in full, no man had comfort to give or kindly word to speak. Much against his will, Mr. Deane promised to break the news to Mr. Forde. Then some one suggested more wine--the last bottle which on a festive occasion was ever broached at Homewood; and Dolly left the gentlemen, disgusted with them and the world at large. She went out into the garden and put her head into the foliage of a great evergreen-tree. It was raining softly, but she did not heed the rain. Upstairs her husband lay semi-conscious;--downstairs his friends were talking of any subject but his affairs. Rupert was in London; Antonia awaiting her _fiancé_ in the drawing-room. By-and-by, Dolly knew her guests would become clamorous for tea. Well, her _rôle_ was ended. She had not asked much from man, and the little she did entreat was denied. She took her head out of the evergreen, and walked back to the house, and upstairs to her dressing-room. Then she rang her bell. "Esther,"--this to her maid--"I shall not go down again to-night. My compliments to Mr. Deane and the other gentlemen. I have a bad headache; and let them have tea." "Yes, ma'am." "And get rid of them as soon as you can." "Yes, ma'am." "And, Esther, if you can make them understand, civilly, I mean, that I never wish to see one of them again, I shall feel infinitely obliged." "Yes, ma'am." And the girl turned towards the door; then with a rush she swept back to Dolly, and said, with tears pouring down her cheeks, "I cannot bear to see you like this, ma'am. Don't be angry with me for asking, but is there any new trouble?" Without a moment's hesitation Mrs. Mortomley answered, "Don't be a simpleton, Esther. There is trouble enough and to spare, but do as I tell you, and you shall know all about it when they are gone." Dolly had one royal quality--she could trust implicitly. It stood her in good stead in the weary, weary times to come. CHAPTER XIV.