"Ever yours, "THOMAS GODOLPHIN." Then the disclosure must come! With a word, that was very like a groan, George crushed the paper in his hand. Maria heard the sound. "What is it, George?" "Nothing. What? This? Only a note from Thomas." He began whistling lightly, to cover his real feelings, and took up the book Maria had closed. "Is it entertaining?" asked he, turning over its pages. "Very. It is a charming book. But that I had it to read, I should have been lying on the sofa. I have a very bad headache to-night." "Go to bed," responded George. "I think I must. Perhaps you will not care to come so early?" "Never mind me. I have an hour or two's work to do in the Bank to-night." "Oh, George!" "My dear, it need not keep you up." "George, I cannot _think_ how it is that you have night-work to do!" she impulsively exclaimed, after a pause. "I am sure Thomas would not wish you to do it. I think I shall ask him." George turned round and grasped her shoulder, quite sharply. "Maria!" His grasp, I say, was sharp, his look and voice were imperatively stern. Maria felt frightened: she scarcely knew why. "What have I done?" she asked, timidly. "Understand me, please, once for all. What I choose to do, does not regard my brother Thomas. I will have no tales carried to him." "Why do you mistake me so?" she answered, when she had a little recovered her surprise. "It cannot be well for you, or pleasant for you, to have so much work to do at night, and I thought Thomas would have told you not to do it. Tales! George, you know I should never tell them of you." "No, no; I know you would not, Maria. I have been idle of late, and am getting up my work; that's all: but it would not do to let Thomas know it. You--you don't tell Isaac that I sit up at the books?" he cried, almost in an accent of terror. She looked up at him wonderingly, through her wet eyelashes. "Surely, no! Should I be likely to speak to Isaac of what you do? or to any one?" George folded her in his arms, kissing the tears from her face. "Go to bed at once, darling, and sleep your headache off," he fondly whispered. "I shall be up soon; as soon as I can." He lighted her candle and gave it to her. As Maria took it, she remembered something she wished to say to him. "When will it be convenient to you to give me some money, George?" "What for?" "Oh, you know. For housekeeping. The bills are getting so heavy, and the tradespeople are beginning to ask for their money. The servants want their wages, too. Would it not be better to pay regularly, as we used to do, instead of letting things run on so long?" "Ay. I'll see about it," replied George.