Even after these revelations the poor child could hardly believe in the utter baseness of her betrayer. But in her next interview with him she was soon convinced of the fact that the man whom she, in common with the rest of the world, regarded as a pattern of virtue, was, in reality, a monster of deceit and vice. That night she escaped from her pretty home, and from then until I saved her from self-destruction she had undergone all manner of rebuffs, disappointments, and privations, which were enough to drive any other modest girl to the refuge of the wretched. I found a temporary home for Lucy, and promised to put an end to her troubles in some way or other. Nor did I doubt my ability to do this. Lucy believed an appeal or a threat of exposure to be equally vain weapons to use against Mr Collinson, but I was more worldly wise, and more sure of success. I saw that as yet the girl was not fit to cope with the world, and I determined to make the “Pattern of Virtue” provide for her comfort. In this determination Lucy’s own guileless and simple nature aided me. Though tenacious of her honour, she did not recoil from the idea of compelling Mr Collinson to pay for his deception, as many a girl of more vigorous mind whose feelings had been outraged would have done. I confess to feeling more slightly malicious when I went to interview the great draper and clothier, who soon found that he had a much more experienced woman than simple little Lucy to deal with. His dismay, when I quietly laid the whole array of facts before him and proved the strength of my position, was comical to witness. At first he tried to frighten me with his bogie reputation as a pattern of virtue. But I had several cards up my sleeve, and as I played them, one by one, he realised that if I were to make public exposure of only one-half the seedy facts I had been able, with the aid of my colleagues, to rake up against him, the world would know him in all his carnal hideousness, and a vast number of people would take their custom elsewhere. Before I had done with him I convinced him of the expediency of providing liberally for Lucy for at least five years to come, and I declined to be satisfied with less than three hundred per annum for that period. It was a bitter pill for him to swallow, but he saw no other way out of the embroglio into which his scoundrelly nature had brought him, and I carried my point.