Then she sat down, with these in her hand, and leaning over the table, she looked straight and full into Mr. Dering's eyes, and began to talk slowly in a low and murmuring voice. And now, indeed, everybody understood that something very serious indeed was going to be said and done. At the last moment a way had occurred to Elsie. She would let them all see for themselves what had happened, and she would spare her guardian the bitter shame and pain of being exposed in the presence of all this company. 'Mr. Dering,' she began, 'you have strangely forgotten that you know Mr. Edmund Gray. How could you come to forget that? Why, it is ten years at least since you made his acquaintance. He knows you very well. He does not pretend to have forgotten you. You are his solicitor. You have the management of his property--his large private fortune--in your hands. You are his most intimate friend. It is not well to forget old friends, is it? You must not say that you forget Edmund Gray.' Mr. Dering changed colour. His eyes expressed bewilderment. He made no reply. 'You know that Edmund Gray leaves this room every evening on his way to Gray's Inn: you remember that. And that he comes here every morning, but not till eleven or twelve--two hours after the time that you yourself used to come. His head is always so full of his thoughts and his teaching, that he forgets the time between twelve and four, just as you forget the evening and the morning. You are both so much absorbed that you cannot remember each other.' Mr. Dering sat upright, the tips of his fingers touching. He listened at first gravely--though anxiously. Presently a remarkable change passed over his face; he became full of anxiety. He listened as if he was trying to remember; as if he was trying to understand. 'Edmund Gray,' he said, speaking slowly. 'Yes, I remember my client Edmund Gray. I have a letter to write for him. What is it? Excuse me a moment; I must write that note for him.' He took pen and paper and hastily wrote a note, which Elsie took from him, read, and gave to Sir Samuel. 'You want to tell the banker that Mr. Edmund Gray has returned you the transfers.--Yes.--Thank you. I thought you could not forget that client, of all others.' He leaned back smiling--his expression no longer anxious, but pleased and happy. The change transformed him. He was not Mr. Dering, but another. 'Go on, child.' 'The rooms of Gray's Inn are quiet all day long. It is a peaceful place for study, is it not? You sit there, your books before you, the world forgotten.' 'Quite forgotten,' said Mr. Dering. 'No--no,' cried Checkley, springing to his feet. 'I won't have it done. I----' 'Sit down.' George pushed him back into his chair. 'Another word, and you leave the room.' 'It is a peaceful day,' Elsie continued, 'that you pass--for the most part alone--you with your books. Sometimes you come here to call upon your old friend and solicitor, Mr. Dering.'