"I have never wished for wealth or luxury, Dominique," she whispered. "I know I shall be as happy as I ever hoped to be, more happy than I ever deserved, with you. Let us think no more of that treasure. It has brought no good to us up to this. Why should we allow it to cause us sorrow now?" "Ay, ay," he said. "We must make the best of it now. Bad will be the best of it, but it might have been worse. You know I have a little money, and with it I shall be able to continue at the singing until I am good enough for the boards. Then I shall be able to earn enough for us both, Dora." "Very little will be enough," she whispered, again pressing his hand. He returned the pressure, and said: "Thank you, darling. They will not let you stay much longer now. I am sorry I am not able to be up; but I suppose they will do everything necessary about your grandfather. I want you to go to my landlord. He has some money of mine. Tell him to arrange all about the funeral. You tell me there is no man in the house where you lodge, and the few men I know in London, I know scarcely sufficiently well to ask a favour of them. Stop," he said; "there is Grafton. I might ask him. He was very friendly to me when I was in London before. I remember where he lived. Go to him and tell him all, and give him the money. That will be better." He gave her Grafton's address, and after a little while she took her leave. She sought the artist and found him at home. He had two rooms in Charlotte Street--one a bedroom; the other served as studio and sitting-room. When Dora called, he was not alone. Having renewed his acquaintance with Cassidy, he had invited the dandy to his place. Cassidy and he were now having coffee. Grafton hurried Cassidy into the bedroom, which was separated from the sitting-room by folding doors. Dora was shown up, and explained the circumstances of the case. Grafton said he would be delighted to do anything he could for Lavirotte and Miss Harrington. Unfortunately there was a difficulty in the way. It was utterly impossible for him to leave his studio that afternoon or night, as he was at work on a block which would take him till five o'clock in the morning to finish, and he had just that moment received a telegram from the illustrated paper on which he worked, ordering him north to the scene of a great colliery accident the first thing in the morning. He was deeply grieved. He would try if he could possibly do anything. Stop! A friend of his was in the house. He would go and ask him if he could manage to do what was required. He went out by the door leading to the landing, and from that landing through another door into the bedroom where Cassidy was.