"I did." Her hard blue eyes met his unflinchingly. "Money's the only thing in the world worth having when you've never had any, and I know! I believe I'd marry Old Nick himself if he offered me ten thousand a year and a car of my own." Forrester swore under his breath. "Women are all the same," he said bitterly. "Ready to sell their souls for jewels and luxury." "Well," said Peg, "I don't know that _you_ can talk! Anyway, it's no business of mine, only that's why Faith won't see you." The Beggar Man's face hardened in a way that made him almost ugly; he was not used to being thwarted. He went close to Peg as she stood guarding the doorway. "Are you going to move?" he asked quietly, "or have I got to make you?" Peg grew very red. She began to say, "Make me?" but changed her mind and stood on one side with a sudden meekness that would have amazed anyone who knew her. And the Beggar Man opened the door and went out into the passage. She followed him then and spoke in a subdued way. "Look here, I'm not taking sides any longer, so don't you think it. But Faith's a little bit of a thing, and she's sad, and she's sick. I can't stop you going in to her if you mean to, but----" She paused. "If you're the sport I almost think you are, you won't, at any rate not to-day," she added earnestly. It was very clever of her, and the Beggar Man stopped and wavered. For an instant they looked at one another silently, eye to eye; then he turned back. "Very well; but as soon as she's well enough you understand that nothing you can say or do will prevent me." Peg laughed grimly. "Oh, yes, I understand that," she said. And so it was left, and for the following sad days Forrester kept his word and Faith was left in peace. There was nothing seriously the matter with her, the doctor said, but she was suffering from shock and nervous prostration, and must be kept quiet. Peg and Forrester got to be almost friendly during that week. There was so much to see to, so much to arrange. Forrester had given notice to the two school teachers who had lodged with Mrs. Ledley, and had told the landlord that he was giving up the house. Then he went to Shawyer and asked how a man set about finding a school for two little girls. "A boarding school?" Mr. Shawyer asked, and the Beggar Man said "Yes, and a top-hole one too! I don't mind the expense, but it's got to be a first-class place, and with a woman at its head who'll be kind to a couple of poor little motherless kids." Mr. Shawyer brought his wife along. She had no children of her own, but she adored children, and had endless understanding and sympathy for them. She was only too eager to hunt for a school for the twins. She was like a delighted child with a new doll, or, rather, two new dolls, when one afternoon she was introduced to the twins--rather sad-faced little mites now, in their black and white frocks.