"Oh! so much," she answered with a sweet smile. "Didn't I tell you this morning that I fell in love with you a long time ago? You have been so kind, so patient, so good. I fear I am a very sad sweetheart, but I know you understand. The ties between my dear father and myself were so close. We were all the world to each other." He hastened away, more firmly resolved than ever that Caleb Boyle should never put his foot in Chesterfield Street. That trusting heart must never be pierced by doubts of her father's rectitude. Wingate was a few minutes late at the club that evening. He found Mr Boyle awaiting him, in the full glory of evening attire. His host could not help observing that the suit had seen good service, and that the shirt was frayed and dingy as to colour. But Boyle's ready assurance was not in the least dashed by these circumstances. He advanced with outstretched hand, and greeted Wingate in his usual fulsome manner. "I am sorry you troubled to dress, Mr Boyle. This is quite a Bohemian club. I ought to have told you." Boyle waved a deprecatory hand. And his self-satisfied manner seemed to imply that, at this hour, evening attire was natural to him, and that he would have assumed it in any case. They went in to dinner. Boyle began talking at once. He admired the dining-room, the service, the club and its arrangements generally. "It is some years since I entered these portals," he remarked in his pompous, affected manner. "I used to know some good fellows in the old days." He named Jimmy this, Dicky that, and Tommy the other. Wingate noted that all the members with whom he boasted acquaintance had joined the majority. "I belonged to a lot of Bohemian clubs when I first started my London career," he explained. "I was a member of the Garrick, and at the Savage I believe I am still remembered. Ah! that those good old days could come again." He heaved a deep sigh, and for a few minutes applied himself to the very excellent meal that was set before him. He ate heartily, consuming big portions of each dish. His host had a shrewd notion that he had economised in the matter of lunch. When dinner was over, they passed to the smoking-room, where Mr Boyle very speedily disposed of a few whiskies, taking two to the other's one. It was here that Wingate touched lightly and delicately upon the visit to Smeaton. "I would like to impress upon you, Mr Boyle, that, under ordinary circumstances. Miss Monkton would be delighted to receive any old friend of her father's; but I fear such a visit at present would pain her very much." Boyle rose to the occasion. "It is I who am in fault. It was a thoughtless suggestion on my part, made on the spur of the moment, and prompted, I assure you, by the sincerest feelings of sympathy for her, and esteem for my dear old friend."