“I meant nothing; I intended nothing; I was faint, and wanted support,” stammered out Sewell, in a broken voice. “What do you mean by interest? How am I to pay interest on an indefinite sum?” “It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn that I am not speaking of money in the interest I require of you. What I want--what I shall exact--is this: that you and yours--” He stopped and grew scarlet; the fear lest something coarse or offensive might fall from him in a moment of heat and anger arrested his words, and he was silent. Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man would have deemed the moment favorable to assert a triumph; Sewell was too acute for this, and waited without speaking a word. “My meaning is this,” said Fossbrooke, in a voice of emotion. “There is a young lady here for whom I have the deepest interest. I desire that, so long as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she should not be exposed to other influences than such as she has met there. She is new to life and the world, and I would not that she should make acquaintance with them through any guidance save of her own nearest and dearest friends.” “I hear, sir; but, I am free to own, I greatly mistrust myself to appreciate your meaning.” “I am sorry for it,” said Fossbrooke, sighing. “I wanted to convey my hope that in your intercourse here Miss Lendrick might be spared the perils of--of--” “My wife's friendship, you would say, sir,” said Sewell, with a perfect composure of voice and look. Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow alike crushed him down. Oh that the day should come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's daughter! “I will not say with what pain I hear you, Sir Brook,” said Sewell, in a low gentle voice. “I am certain that you never uttered such a speech without much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I tell you that we only remain a few days in town. I have taken a country house, some sixty or seventy miles from the capital, and we mean to live there entirely.” “I am satisfied,” said Sir Brook, whose eagerness to make reparation was now extreme. “Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my wife,” said Sewell. “Of course not, sir; save with such an explanation as I could give of my meaning, it would be an outrage.” “I was not aware that there was--that there could be--an explanation,” said Sewell, quietly; and then seeing the sudden flash that shot from the old man's eyes, he added hastily, “This is far too painful to dwell on; let it suffice, sir, that I fully understand you, and that you shall be obeyed.” “I ask no more,” said Fossbrooke, bowing slightly.