Mr. Tallant saw the justice of the remark in an instant, and it seemed like a rebuke when he remembered how dearly the wife was beloved. With the picture and the familiar face of the assumed Amy Somerton in his mind for a moment, his whole nature cried out in proof of the woman’s story; and now he bethought himself of the strange interest he had always taken in the girl, and how indifferent he had been in comparison to Phœbe, lovable as she undoubtedly was, beautiful as everybody must confess her to be. It seemed for a moment as if a new link of interest between himself and the world had been forged by this confession. “You will wait until I am dead, sir--pray do--before you repeat my story: do, do wait; I should not like to lose Luke’s respect in my last moments.” “I will not divulge what you have confessed, at present at least,” said the merchant; “but justice must be done.” “Yes, yes, that is right; but I am not long for this world--there is no hurry now.” The merchant promised to keep her secret for the present, but she could get no other promise from him. She asked his forgiveness, and he forgave her. When he left her she seemed to be considerably better. Exhausted by the excitement of her confession, she lay motionless when Amy and her father returned. She had been slightly feverish all day; towards night brain fever set in, and then the doctor confessed there was danger. * * * * * Meanwhile Mr. Tallant had sent for his London lawyer, who remained closeted with him all the next day. In the afternoon a clerk came down with parchment and other materials for engrossing, and Mr. Christopher Tallant made a new and final will, little thinking how soon it would come to be read aloud for the benefit of the parties interested therein. He had taken every means for verifying the rumours which had reached him concerning his son; for many days past he had had a private detective upon his track, who had laid before him unmistakable proofs of his son’s commercial dishonesty. The detective had even hunted out the card scandal at the Ashford Club, in which Mr. Richard Tallant had not altogether escaped suspicion. He laid before the father shares recently transferred by Richard Tallant in the Meter Iron Works Company, whose stock had begun to fall in the market. The managing director had sold shares at par which had been at ten premium, and there was evidently a scheme on foot to run them down to a discount, and then Mr. Richard Tallant would buy up all he could get, for there was not a better concern in all England than the Meter Works.