Emilia read her look, and rose. Her thoughts struck back on the creature that she was when she had last seen Mr. Pericles, and again, by contrast, on what she was now. Eager to hear of him, or rather to divine the mystery in her bosom aroused by the unexpected mention of his name, she was soon alone with Laura in the garden. "Oh, those poor Poles!" Laura began. "You were going to say something of Mr. Pericles," said Emilia. "Yes, indeed, my dear; but, of course, you have heard all the details of that dreadful night? It cannot be called a comfort to us that it enables my brother Albert to come forward in the most disinterested--I might venture to say, generous--manner, and prove the chivalry of his soul; still, as things are, we are glad, after such misunderstandings, to prove to that sorely-tried family who are their friends. I--you would little think so from their treatment of me--I was at school with them. I knew them before they became unintelligible, though they always had a turn for it. To dress well, to be refined, to marry well--I understand all that perfectly; but who could understand them? Not they themselves, I am certain! And now penniless! and not only that, but lawyers! You know that Mrs. Chump has commenced an action?--no? Oh, yes! but I shall have to tell you the whole story." "What is it?--they want money?" said Emilia. "I will tell you. Our poor gentlemanly organist, whom you knew, was really a baronet's son, and inherited the title." Emilia interrupted her: "Oh, do let me hear about them!"