‘Has he? Yes, it is that Mallory.’ ‘Any particular friend of yours?’ ‘No,’ was the cold response. ‘He happened to hear first of my father’s death last night, and as there was no one else here, and no one to do anything, he has been kind enough to arrange things for me since. I know very little of him.’ ‘H’m! ha! Well, we must get to business.’ In a very short time Helena was made acquainted with what had happened, and with the bare and naked outline of her approaching future life. The less said of her brother the better, said Mr. Bamford. He believed that the sum with which he had absconded was about two thousand pounds. As for her father--he softened his tone a little, out of consideration for Helena--he was to blame, too, for not drawing in when first he began to find himself in difficulties; ‘only that would have brought him down in the world, and he couldn’t bear it; so, instead of going one step lower, and then climbing up again when he had a chance, he has waited, till he had to tumble down to the ground, and can never get up again,’ remarked the merchant drily, while Helena listened. She showed him the scrap of paper which Sebastian had given her. ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Bamford; ‘that money of yours is a myth----’ ‘I am glad to hear it,’ said his niece, in a deep, almost resentful tone. ‘And if it had been there--every penny--I should not have kept it now, of course.’ ‘And what your mother was to have had--it’s all in the business; was, I mean. It has gone with the rest.’ ‘I am glad of that too,’ observed Helena, concisely. ‘Then no one will have the power to say that we were well off while other people suffered.’ ‘Your wardrobe and jewellery will be your own, of course. Your jewels and your mother’s must be worth a pretty good sum, Helena.’ ‘My jewellery will be sold, and mamma’s too.’ ‘Please yourself about your own; but if your mother is not your father’s most pressing creditor, I don’t know who is. Of course she will sell her jewels; but she will keep the proceeds, and you will abstain from meddling in matters you don’t understand.’ ‘I understand right and wrong, uncle, and I shall do what I feel to be right.’ ‘Eh!’ he repeated, with a kind of chuckle: ‘the lass has a spirit in her after all.’ They would have to leave Thanshope. Helena must try to find some employment. He would give them a home until that was accomplished; to his sister as long as she chose to stay with him. If she liked she might keep house for him, but if she chose to also try some means of gaining a livelihood, he would do what he could to help her. More, he thought, they could not expect. ‘Certainly not,’ said Helena, composedly. ‘We have no right to expect so much, and may consider ourselves fortunate in having you for a friend.’