"And enough," said Dick, "more than enough for one day. There isn't a man or woman in all England who could have done as much in so short a time. I'm proud of you, Gracie. Now, my girl, you mustn't breathe a word of all this to another living soul in the world." "I won't," said Gracie, her heart swelling with pride at being addressed by Dick as "my girl." "I begin to see light, aunt. That man, Vinsen, sham doctor and philanthropist, alias Ezra Lynn, real scoundrelly money-lender, and Dr. Pye have been hatching a plot against us, and have drawn the other scoundrel Rawdon into it. Light--yes, light! And there's more behind it that I'll get at before I'm many days older. You don't like secrets, aunt, but this _must_ be kept from Uncle Rob. He might consider it his duty to make a move, and if he does we are done for. You can't see as well as I can what is hanging to this discovery of Gracie's. I pledge you both to secrecy--for Reginald's sake. We must keep this before us. All that we have done, all that we are doing, is for Reginald's sake. Promise, promise!" They were aglow with excitement, and they replied simultaneously, "We promise, Dick." "That's right. We'll draw those ferrets out of their hole, and it will not be long before Reginald is a free man--freely and honourably acquitted, with every one who knows him, and every one who doesn't, ready and eager to shake hands with him, and give him a word of sympathy." "Dear Dick!" said Florence, giving him both her hands. "Dear Florence, dear aunt, I would go through fire and water for you." He turned suddenly to Gracie. "What have you had to eat to-day?" "A penny loaf at the baker shop," replied Gracie, who was fainting with hunger. "Nothing more?" cried Aunt Rob. "No, ma'am." "Florence, lay the tablecloth; and you, Dick, run down to the kitchen, and fetch the bread and butter--and you'll find a cake in the larder. And bring up the kettle--I'll make the tea here. Tell the servant to cook four large rashers and poach half-a-dozen eggs. Draw up to the table child--why, you must be starving!" "I'm all right, ma'am. It ain't worth while worrying about me." "You dear little mite!" Aunt Rob's heart was overflowing with pity, and she bent down and kissed her. Dick was back, loaded with a steaming kettle and bread and butter and cake, and though Aunt Rob was no fairy, the tea was made and a cup placed before Gracie, and bread and butter cut, as quickly as any fairy, though she were light as gossamer, could have accomplished it. "Don't wait for us, Gracie, the bacon and eggs will soon be here--why, here they are! Now, my dear, make a good meal, and you sit down, Florence, and eat. It's easier to meet trouble with a full stomach than an empty one. Here's your cup, Dick; you look famished, too. Things look ever so much brighter, don't they?"