They looked at Jenny. She was evidently prepared; for though her colour rose a little, her frank eyes looked at him with a confiding smile. "But we must have justice done to you, my dear boy, whether you stay with us or not," said Mrs. Poynsett. "That might have been done if I had not been fool enough to run away," said Archie; "having done so, the mass of people will only remember that there has been something against me, in spite of any justification. It is not worth while to blast Moy's character, and show poor old Proudfoot what a swindler his son was, just for that. The old man was good to me. I should like to let it rest while he lives. If Moy would sign such an exculpation of me as could be shown to Mr. Bowater, and any other whom it might concern, I should be quite willing to have nothing told publicly, at least as long as the old gentleman lives." "I think Archie is right," said Miles, in the pause, with a great effort. "Yes, right in the highest sense of the word," said Julius. "It is Christian," Anne breathed across to her husband. "I don't like it," said Mrs. Poynsett. "Let that scoundrel go unhung!" burst from Frank, who had failed to catch the spirit of his interpreter. "I don't like it in the abstract, mother," said Miles; "but you and Frank have not seen the scoundrel in his beaten down state, and, as Archie says, it is hard to blacken the memory of either poor George Proudfoot or Tom Vivian, who have fathers to feel it for them." "Poor Tom Vivian's can hardly be made much blacker," said Mrs. Poynsett, "nor are Sir Harry's feelings very acute; but perhaps poor old Proudfoot ought to be spared, and there are considerations as to the Vivian family. Still, I don't see how to consent to Archie going into exile again with this stigma upon him. I am sure Raymond would not, and I do not think Mr. Bowater will." "Dear Aunt Julia," said Archie, affectionately, coming across to her, "it was indeed exile before, when I was dead to all of you; but can it be so now the communication is open, and when I am making or winning my home?" and his eyes brought Jenny to him by her side. "Yes, dear Mrs. Poynsett," she said, holding her hand, "I am sure he is right, and that it would spoil all our own happiness to break that poor old father's heart, and bring him and his wife to disgrace and misery. When I think of the change in everything since two days back--dear Herbert wrung a sort of forgiveness out of me--I can't bear to think of anybody being made miserable." "And what will your papa say, child?" "I think he will feel a good deal for old Proudfoot," said Jenny. "He rather likes the old man, and has laughed at our hatred of Miss Moy's pretensions."