Tilly cleared the table and began to prepare the dinner. She had promised the boys a bag pudding, and must start it early. She had not been cooking more than half an hour when the door opened, and Richard came in, dressed in a neat black suit with a stiff Gladstone collar. His hair was nicely brushed, and he carried a pair of gloves and a little valise. "Oh!" cried Tilly. "I'm off," said Richard shortly, banging down his valise on the table. "Off!--where?" "To London." Tilly gaped at him. "I'm sick of all this, I'm sick of the old man and his beastliness. Miss Bardon is lending me money to go to London University, and perhaps I shall read for the Bar." "The Bar," repeated Tilly vaguely. "Yes, I've learned a heap of Latin and other things during the last five years, and two or three years at the University ought to be all I want. Miss Bardon's taught me--I owe everything to her." "I must say as how you've kept it dark." She knew of his friendship with Anne Bardon, but had never expected it to bear such generous fruit. "Well, it would never have done if the old man had got to know of it. Good heavens, Tilly! How can you live on with that old brute?" "Maybe I shan't much longer," said Tilly, looking down at her rolling-pin. Richard stared at her for a moment--"I'm glad to hear it. But the others--oh, my dear girl, this is damnable!" Tilly sighed. "The law ought to suppress such men--it ought to be a criminal offence to revert to type--the primordial gorilla." "But fäather's a clever man--Albert always used to say so." "Yes, in a cunning, brutish sort of way--like a gorilla when he's set his heart on a particular cocoanut. Boarzell's his cocoanut, and he's done some smart things to get it--and in one way at least he's above the gorilla, for he can enslave other people of superior intelligence to sweat under his orders for what they care nothing about." "We're all very unlucky," said Tilly, "to have been born his children. But one by one we're gitting free. There'll soon be only Pete and Jemmy and Caro left." "And I hope to God they'll have the wit to follow the rest of us. I'd like to see that old slave-driver left quite alone. Heavens! I could have strangled him yesterday--I should have, if I hadn't had this to look forward to." "Where are you going to stay in London?" "Miss Bardon's taken some rooms for me in Montague Street." "She's good to you, Richard." "She's an angel "--he lifted his eyes, and his mouth became almost worshipful--"she's an angel, who's raised me out of hell. I shall never be able to repay her, but she doesn't expect it. All she wants is my success." "I wish Caro or Jemmy cud meet someone like her. I döan't think as Pete minds." "No, he's quite the young gorilla. Now I must be off, Tilly. I'll write to you." "Oh, wöan't fäather be in a taking!" "I reckon--I expect he will. But don't you mind him, little sister. He isn't worth it." He stooped and kissed her.