Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. “Don’t talk to me about his wife!” she broke out fiercely; “I’ve got a day of reckoning to come with that lady--” She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning was quick enough to conceal. “I wouldn’t intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!” he said, in his most persuasive tones. “But, if you want advice, you know that I am heart and soul at your service.” Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the fire. “Never mind now,” she said; “I don’t think it’s a matter for a man to advise about--it’s between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with her husband; I don’t care; he’s a brute, and I hate him. But there’s one thing I insist on--I won’t have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed; mind that! She’s a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to me yesterday, and judge for yourself.” Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took upon himself the burden of reading it. “DEAR PHOEBE, “Don’t be downhearted. I am your friend always, and I will help you to get another place. I am sorry to say that it was indeed Mrs. Ormond who found us out that day. She had her suspicions, and she watched us, and told my aunt. This she owned to me with her own lips. She said, ‘I would do anything, my dear, to save you from an ill-assorted marriage.’ I am very wretched about it, because I can never look on her as my friend again. My aunt, as you know, is of Mrs. Ormond’s way of thinking. You must make allowances for her hot temper. Remember, out of your kindness towards me, you had been secretly helping forward the very thing which she was most anxious to prevent. That made her very angry; but, never fear, she will come round in time. If you don’t want to spend your little savings, while you are waiting for another situation, let me know. A share of my pocket-money is always at your service. “Your friend, “REGINA.” “Very nice indeed,” said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as he did it. “And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here’s the waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there’s a time for everything--it’s time to wake up.” He lifted the old woman off her chair, and settled her before the table, like a child. The sight of the hot food and drink roused her to a tigerish activity. She devoured the meat with her eyes as well as her teeth; she drank the hot gin-and-water in fierce gulps, and set down the glass with audible gasps of relief. “Another one,” she cried, “and I shall begin to feel warm again!”