'Pray, if one may ask----' 'Oh! you may ask. I saw a letter to-day--Mr. Dering showed it to me. It was written from the States three or four years ago. It showed where you were at that time and showed me more, Athelstan--it showed me how you lost the pile of money that you made over that silver mine--you remember, Athelstan?' He made no reply. 'Oh! do you think that I am going to accept this sacrifice? George, you do not know. The donor of that great sum of money which Mr. Dering held for me--we have often wondered who it was. I have only found out to-day--it was Athelstan. He gave me all he had for such a trifling thing--only because I would not believe that he was a villain--all he had in the world--and went out again into the cold. He said he dropped his money down a gully or a grating on the prairie--some nonsense. And he sent it all to me, George.--What shall we do?' 'Is this really true, Athelstan? Did you really give up all this money to Elsie?' 'She says so.' 'It is quite true, George. I saw the letter--Mr. Dering showed it to me--in which he sent that money home, and begged Mr. Dering to take care of it, and to give it to me on the day when I should be one-and-twenty. He cannot deny it. Look at him. He blushes--he is ashamed--he hangs his head--he blows tobacco-smoke about in clouds, hoping to hide his red cheeks. And he talks of going on to St. Petersburg, when we know this secret, and have got the money! What do you call this conduct, George?' 'Athelstan--there is no word for it. But you must have it back. You must, and shall. There can be no discussion about it. And there is not another man in the world, I believe, who would have done it.' 'Nonsense. I should only have lost it, if I had kept it,' Athelstan replied after the Irish fashion. 'You hear, Athelstan. It is yours. There can be no discussion. That's what I like a man for. While we women are all talking and disputing, the man puts down his foot and says: "There can be no discussion." Then we all stop, and the right thing is done. It is yours, brother; and you shall have it, and you shall stay at home with us always and always.' She laid her hand upon his shoulder, and her arm round his neck, caressing him with hand and voice. The man who had wandered alone for eight years was not accustomed to sisterly caresses. They moved him. The thing itself moved him. 'All this belongs to another chapter,' he said huskily. 'We will talk of it afterwards, when the business in hand is despatched. 'Well, then--that is agreed. You are to have your money back: my mother is to take her suspicions back: Mr. Dering is to have his certificates back and his dividends: Checkley is to take his lies back: Sir Samuel is to have his charges back: George and I are going to have our peace of mind back. And we are all going to live happy ever afterwards.' 'As for Wednesday now,' said George. 'It is not an unimportant day for us, you know.'