‘I’m sure you oughtn’t to go there to-day,’ was Bessie’s opinion. ‘You’ve quite enough trouble of your own, my dear.’ ‘And that’s just what I was a-sayin’, mum,’ assented Mrs. Griffin, who had won Bessie’s highest opinion by her free use of respectful forms of address. ‘I never saw no one look iller, as you may say, than the young lady.’ ‘Yes, yes, I will go,’ said Jane, rising. ‘My trouble’s nothing to hers. Oh, I shall go at once.’ ‘But remember your father’s coming at half-past nine,’ urged Bessie, ‘and he said he wanted to speak to you particular.’ ‘What is the time now? A quarter to nine. I can be back by half-past, I think, and then I can go again. Father wouldn’t mind waiting a few minutes. I must go at once, Mrs. Byass.’ She would hear no objection, and speedily left the house in Mrs. Griffin’s company. At half-past nine, punctually, Mr. Snowdon’s double knock sounded at the door. Joseph looked more respectable than ever in his black frock-coat and silk hat with the deep band. His bow to Mrs. Byass was solemn, but gallant; he pressed her fingers like a clergyman paying a visit of consolation, and in a subdued voice made affectionate inquiry after his daughter. ‘She has slept, I hope, poor child?’ Bessie took him into the sitting-room, and explained Jane’s absence. ‘A good girl; a good girl,’ he remarked, after listening with elevated brows, ‘But she must be careful of her health. My visit this morning is on matters of business; no doubt she will tell you the principal points of our conversation afterwards. An excellent friend you have been to her, Mrs. Byass—excellent.’ ‘I’m sure I don’t see how anyone could help liking her,’ said Bessie, inwardly delighted with the expectation of hearing at length what Jane’s circumstances really were. ‘Indeed, so good a friend,’ pursued Joseph, ‘that I’m afraid it would distress her if she could no longer live with you. And the fact is’—he bent forward and smiled sadly—‘I’m sure I may speak freely to you, Mrs. Byass—but the fact is, that I’m very doubtful indeed whether she could be happy if she lived with Mrs. Snowdon. I suppose there’s always more or less difficulty where step-children are concerned, and in this case—well, I fear the incompatibility would be too great. To be sure, it places me in a difficult position. Jane’s very young—very young; only just turned seventeen, poor child! Out of the question for her to live with strangers. I had some hopes—I wonder whether I ought to speak of it? You know Mr. Kirkwood?’ ‘Yes, indeed. I can’t tell you how surprised I was, Mr. Snowdon. And there seems to be such a mystery about it, too.’ Bessie positively glowed with delight in such confidential talk. It was her dread that Jane’s arrival might put an end to it before everything was revealed. ‘A mystery, you may well say, Mrs. Byass. I think highly of Mr. Kirkwood, very highly; but really in this affair! It’s almost too painful to talk about—to _you_.’