Mr. Paulton was disturbed by this sudden and unexpected prospect of deliverance. There could be no doubt of the woman's sincerity. Here she was, without a suggestion from any one, offering to take the very step he desired. It was necessary to say something, and kind-hearted as he was, a polite lie was a sin utterly beneath him. He felt extremely awkward. "Since you consider it useful to your own interest that you should go, I will say nothing against your leaving us." "Allow me, Mrs. Davenport, to say that I think it will be better for you to be in London than here. I can then see you at any moment without delay," joined in Pringle. When she heard his voice she turned to him. A shadow passed across her face. When he ceased speaking, she merely bowed. Turning her glance once more on Mr. Paulton, she went on: "I have explained matters to Mrs. Paulton, and said good-bye to her. Your daughters are out, but your wife has promised me to say good-bye to them for me; and now there remains for me to say good-bye to only you and your son." She held out her hand. The host suffered a revulsion of feeling now that he heard her say good-bye, and saw her hold out her hand to him. It was hard to picture this beautiful woman alone in London, with her new woe. As long as she was an abstraction, as long as she was upstairs, and he regarded her as simply the source of notoriety if not of scandal, it was easy to wish her away at any inconvenience to herself or cost to him. But here she was now anticipating his wishes, doing precisely as he had most desired--about to launch herself alone on the vast ocean of London without a friend, and that, too, at the very time when she was most in need of friendly countenance and protection. It was too bad--much too bad. He took her Land, and said, with perfect sincerity now: "I am really sorry to say good-bye to you--really sorry you must go. I would like to be of any service to you I can. Will you, as a favour, promise me, if I can in any way assist you, you will let me know?" "I will, indeed, Mr. Paulton. I am most grateful to you, and I am sure you would do anything you could for me; but"--she paused and sighed--"I am greatly afraid no one can do much to help me now. I must make up my mind to bear what cannot be avoided--to bear it bravely." The tone in which these words were uttered and the smile which accompanied them were worse than any tears. "But," said Mr. Paulton, still keeping the hand she had given him, "do you not think you had better wait a little, until evening, even if no longer?" "I am greatly obliged to you. But what is to be gained by delay? Nothing." "Well, but where do you propose going? What hotel do you intend staying at?" "I know one," she answered, wearily, as she withdrew her hand gently from his. "It does not matter which or where." "But you are not taking anything with you! You cannot go merely as you are!"