‘The gentlemen said nothing to me, nor to no one. They just scuttled out of the house, leaving all the chairs about. I thank my goodness gracious stars that I can’t see nothing gone: but, Mr. Sandford--I’ve a great respect for you, sir, as a gentleman that can take care of yourself when many can’t, and always tidy, and keeps no bad company, leastways never did till now----’ John only half understood what she was saying, but he caught at the words bad company, and replied, with a faint laugh, ‘I’ve been very particular about that, have I not?’ he said. ‘Yes, sir: to do you justice, you’ve been very particular. And that makes me feel it all the more. Do you know, Mr. Sandford, who’s been out and in of _my_ house all these days, sitting in my parlour, like he was the master? Oh, don’t tell me, sir, as you knew all the time! A man as has just come out of prison, a man as has just served out his time, and that was fourteen years. Mr. Sandford, don’t tell me as you knew!’ ‘Yes,’ said John; ‘I knew; but I didn’t know----’ here he stopped and gazed at her, quieted he could not tell by what sentiment, and feeling as if the words hung suspended in the air which he ought to have said. ‘I didn’t know he was--my father’--that was what he had intended to say. ‘I’m very sorry, sir,’ the woman said. ‘You’ve always been most regular, paying to the day, and always civil, and a pleasure to serve you; but I can’t do with that sort of visitors in my house. I can’t, sir; I’ve got my character to think of. I’ve told Betsy, if they come again, to shut the door in their face. And, Mr. Sandford, it’s a week’s notice, please, sir. I don’t doubt but you can easy suit yourself. There are folks that think nothing of their character so long’s they get a good let: and except for this I haven’t got a word, not a word, to say against you.’ John stared at her blankly, taking her meaning with difficulty into his mind: then gradually perception came to him. ‘You want me,’ he said, ‘to go away?’ ‘Yes, sir, that’s what it’s come to,’ the woman said, clearing her throat. John kept his eyes upon her--trying to intimidate her, she thought; in reality, trying to fathom her, to make out what she meant--then he burst into a sudden laugh. ‘To go away--for what? Because I am--in trouble, because my life is not so happy as it has been. Well, it is a good reason enough. Yes, Mrs. Short, I’ll go.’ ‘You--in trouble, sir!’ The woman’s voice rose into a sort of shriek. ‘Oh, Mr. Sandford, what have you done? you that were always so respectable. Can’t you put it right? Oh, Mr. Sandford, I never thought of that. How much is it? Tell your ma, sir, and, whatever it costs her, she’ll set it right.’