'Why, Elsie,' he cried, 'what is the matter? Why are you crying, my dear? and why are you alone in this room?' 'I choke in this house, George. Take me out of it--take me away. Let us walk about the Squares and talk. I have a good deal to say.' 'Now, dear, what is it?'--when they were outside. 'What happened? You are trembling--you have been shaken. Tell me, dear.' 'I don't think I can tell you just at present--not all.' 'Something then--the rest afterwards. Tell me by instalments.' 'You are quite happy, George? Nobody has said anything to make you angry, at the office, or anywhere else?' 'Nobody. We are going on just the same. Mr. Dering thinks and talks about nothing but the robbery. So do I. So does everybody else. I suppose Checkley has told, for every clerk in the place knows about it, and is talking about it. Why do you ask if anybody has made me angry?' 'My dear George, Hilda has been here this afternoon. You know that--sometimes--Hilda does not always say the kindest things about people.' 'Not always. I remember when she wrote me a letter asking whether I thought that a lawyer's clerk was a fit aspirant for the hand of her sister. Not always just the kindest things. But I thought we were all on the most affectionate terms, and that everything had been sponged out. Has she been saying more kind, sisterly, things about me? What have I done now? Isn't the money difficulty solved?' 'I will tell you some other time--not now--what she said. At the present moment I want to ask you a question. If you have reasons for not answering, say so, and I shall be quite satisfied; but answer me if you can. This is the question. Hilda says that Athelstan is secretly in London, and that you know it, and that you have been seen with him. Is that true?' 'Well--Elsie--the only reason for not telling you that Athelstan is here is that he himself made me promise not to tell you. Athelstan is in London. I see him often. I shall see him this evening after leaving you. He is in London, walking about openly. Why not? I know no reason for any concealment. But he cannot go to see his mother, or enter his mother's house, until this charge against him has been acknowledged to be baseless. As for you, he will be the first person to visit you--and will be your most frequent visitor--when we are married. He is always talking about you. He is longing for the time when he can see you openly. But nothing will persuade him to come here. He is still bitter against his mother and against Hilda.' Elsie sighed. 'It is very terrible--and now---- But go on.' 'I have answered your question, Elsie.' 'Oh, no. I have only just begun. You say that Athelstan is in London; but you do not tell me what he is doing and how he fares.' 'He fares very well, and he is prosperous.' 'Hilda says that he has been living in some wretched quarter of London all these years; that he has been frequenting low company; and that he has been, until the last few weeks, in rags and penniless.'