‘At the end of that week Mr. Craig had paid over two hundred pounds’ worth of new silver into his private account, and these payments continued. In a fortnight I was asked down to the Craigs’ country house again. I cannot describe my courtship of Miss Juana. I find my statement is getting too long. But in any event I could not describe it. It was the most precious, the only precious fragment of my life. The only drawback to my timid happiness was Mr. Craig’s attitude to me--a sort of insinuating attitude, quite at variance with the usual style of this powerfully-minded and very reticent man. The payments of new silver continued. In a business of the magnitude of our Kilburn branch the silver was, of course, distributed in the ordinary routine of affairs without special notice being taken of it. ‘One day I proposed to Miss Juana. It was a terrible moment for me. To this hour I do not know how I dared to do it. To my inconceivable astonishment and joy Miss Juana said: “You honour me, Mr. Featherstone. I am a poor girl. My father is not rich. I do not love you, but I like you, and I esteem you. I accept your hand.” ‘Later I said to Mr. Craig: “Mr. Craig, I have asked your daughter Juana to be my wife, and she has done me the honour to consent. Do you also consent?” ‘He said in reply: “My dear Featherstone, you will pardon me, but, of course, I know the amount of your salary. Have you any other resources?” I said that I had none. ‘The interview grew strangely complex. I see now that he handled me with consummate skill and adroitness. It came to this. He said: “Assist me in a scheme of mine which is approaching completion, and when it is complete I will give you twenty thousand pounds. But you will be bound to secrecy.” ‘I said to him: “Is your scheme in any way contrary to the law?” ‘He said: “Frankly, it is. But, Feather-stone, you are in love, and there is no crime in my scheme.” ‘I admit that Mr. Craig’s offer of twenty thousand pounds dazzled me at first, especially as I began instantly to perceive that my life’s happiness would depend on my acceptance of it. You may ask what right a man aged fifty odd has to talk of a life’s happiness--a man who probably has not more than ten years to live. Let me suggest that it is impossible for any man, however old, not to believe that he will survive for an indefinitely long period, unless he be actually on his death-bed. ‘Moreover, I was profoundly in love. I loved with the intense and restrained passion of, which only a middle-aged man in love for the first time is capable. No young man, with the facile ardours of youth, could appreciate my feelings. Be that as it may--and I have no wish at this solemn hour to attempt to excuse myself--my demeanour certainly gave Mr. Craig the impression that I had no objection to becoming his confederate. His face showed that he was pleased--that a weight had been lifted from his mind.