'They mean many things, my dear guardian. Chiefly they mean that you shall get back your Property, and that suspicion shall be removed from innocent persons--and all this, I hope, before next Wednesday, when I am to be married. We must all be happy on my wedding day.' 'Will--will Mr. Edmund Gray be there as well?' 'He has promised.--And now, my dear guardian, if you will come round to Gray's Inn with me, I will show you the Chambers of Mr. Edmund Gray.' 'No--no. Thank you, Elsie-- I do not wish to make the personal acquaintance of a Socialist.' 'He has Chambers on the second floor. The principal room is large and well furnished. It is a wainscoted room with two windows looking on the Square. It is not a very pretty Square, because they have not made a garden or laid down grass in the middle--and the houses are rather dingy. He sits there in the evening. He writes and meditates. Sometimes he teaches me, but that is a new thing. In the morning he is sometimes there between nine o'clock and twelve. He has an old laundress, who pretends to keep his rooms clean.' She murmured these words softly, thinking to turn his memory back and make him understand what had happened. 'They are pleasant rooms, are they not?' He made no reply--his eyes betrayed trouble. She thought it was the trouble of struggling memory.--'He sits here alone and works. He thinks he is working for the advancement of the world. There is no one so good, I think, as Edmund Gray.' He suddenly pushed back the chair and sprang to his feet. 'My Scholar! You speak of me?' It was so sudden that Elsie cried out and fell backwards in her chair. She had brought on the thing by her own words, by conjuring up a vision of the Chambers. But--the trouble was not the struggle of the memory getting hold of evasive facts. 'Why, child,' he remonstrated, 'you look pale. Is it the heat? Come, it is cooler outside. Let us go to the Chambers in Gray's Inn. This old fellow--this Dering--here he sits all day long. It is Tom Tiddler's ground. It is paved with gold, which he picks up. The place--let us whisper--because he must be in the outer office--it reeks of Property--reeks of Property.' He took his hat and gloves. 'My Scholar, let us go.' By force of habit, he shut and locked the safe and dropped the bunch of keys in his pocket. CHAPTER XXVIII ATHELSTAN'S DISCOVERY On the evening of that same day the same discovery was made by another of the persons chiefly concerned.