John scarcely knew how he got to the office on that eventful morning; but somehow, by force or sweet persuasion, or something that drew him in spite of himself, he went, leaving the ladies still in his parlour, where, in the sickness of his heart, he could not see them again. The sight of Elly was more than he could bear. It was easier to face the Barretts, and anything they could say to him, than to look at Elly in her ignorance and certainty, in her all-confident love and courage. She to stand by him! who would not be permitted to soil her gentle name and stainless record by the most distant contact with his shame and wretchedness. Elly! her very name gave him a sick pang of mingled sweetness and misery. To think she should be ready to do all that for him--and to think that in honour and justice he ought never to see her again! He found the Barretts, father and son, awaiting him with apparent anxiety. They both looked up eagerly when he opened the door, and Mr. William came forward, holding out his hand. ‘Sit down, Sandford. My father and I wish to have a little talk with you. We are all sorry for the misunderstanding that occurred when you were here last.’ ‘I don’t think there was any misunderstanding. Mr. Barrett told me that I was doing what he always expected, when I behaved like a traitor and liar.’ ‘It was all a mistake, Sandford. I give you my word it was all a mistake. Father, you had better speak for yourself.’ ‘I withdraw what I said, if I said that,’ said the old gentleman. ‘Perhaps I have been prejudiced. My opinion is that children are what their parents make them: but circumstances alter cases. And I hear from William----’ ‘The fact is,’ said the junior partner, laying his hand upon the papers on the table, ‘that this is a most remarkable scheme of yours, Sandford.’ In whatsoever depths a man may be, to have his work or his invention praised will make his heart jump. Suddenly it seemed to John as if a great cloud, which had enveloped the world, opened and rolled aside, and out from behind it, in all the splendour of day, appeared for a moment the smiling blue. He thought that cloud and darkness had been the shadow of his father; but that it was not this alone was evident suddenly now--if only for a moment. He did not say anything in reply, but drew a long breath. ‘Spender & Diggs,’ continued Mr. William Barrett, ‘like idiots as they are, tell Prince that they can’t make head or tale of it: that it’s mixed up with clever things and nonsense; and that they have sent it back.’ ‘The man,’ said John, with a stammering in his voice which his late masters thought was due to some sense of delinquency; ‘the man who copied my papers, and who took them without my knowledge, went for them yesterday and demanded them back.’