He nodded a familiar farewell to his visitor when, uncomfortable and crestfallen, the latter withdrew. The Forcuses were not even customers. Sir Francis and he sat on the magistrates' bench together. "We are on a par, about, now," he said to himself; and he reminded himself he also was now entitled to put a cockade on the frowsy hat of his coachman in the mildewed livery. Let the high and mighty brewer put up a widow of his own to play Providence to, and leave the especial property of George Boult alone! Sir Francis, for his part, was more troubled in mind than ever when he emerged from that interview. The girl dismissed from her school too! It seemed that all the misfortunes of the poor Days must be laid at his door. He, who hated to owe to any man, could not ease himself of that heavy debt. "I will go to see them," Ada said when he told the ill-success of his mission. "They will hate to see you." "I shall go. I am sure they are people of nice feeling." Of that visit, too, no very satisfactory account could be given. It had been very painful. Mrs. Day had not been present. She had sent a message thanking Miss Forcus for calling, and asking to be excused. There had been only the girls. She might say only the one girl, for the elder had started wildly crying at the appearance of Miss Forcus, and had not recovered when she left. "The poor little boy seems to have been their idol," Ada said with a sigh, miserably oppressed. The younger girl had pleased the lady very much by her demeanour; so composed, so unselfish, so evidently aware of the trying ordeal it was for the visitor, so sweetly striving to be gracious. Sir Francis nodded. "I have always liked the manner of that younger girl." "And she is quite lovely, Francis." He did not know about the loveliness, the brother said, but he believed her to be simple and conscientious and good. He looked at his sister's plain face: "Every woman who is that is lovely," he announced. "I am going there again," Ada said. "It won't seem an intrusion?" "I will risk it. They appear to have no friends." After the second visit she had something more definite to relate. "I hope you will approve, but if you don't it can't be helped," she said, "for the thing is arranged. That younger girl, Deleah, is coming here." "Here? On a visit, you mean?" "She is coming to be my companion. It is the only way I can discover in which we can be of use to them. The poor child has been receiving fifteen pounds a year. I can give her fifty--" "You haven't forgotten how that young fool, Reggie, made a bigger fool of himself over this girl. Would have married her, I suppose, but for the extraordinarily decent way the young woman behaved about it." "Luckily Reggie is away," Ada comforted herself. "He'll have been in love a dozen times over before he comes back again." "But what are you going to do with the girl? Won't it bore you to have her always about? You have never wanted a companion before."