"I have not had much of it at present," he replied, after a brief pause. "The place was let for a long while. Then, when I took it over again, I made it into a sort of convalescent home, and training-place, and general starting-point for girls and children--_protégées_ of my friend who does slumming in the orthodox way. Though he disapproves of me he makes use of me, and, of course, I don't disapprove of him, and am very glad to help him. The house is too big for me alone, and it seems the best use I can put it to. Of course I keep control of it; I take the poor things in on the condition that they are to be disciplined after my system and not his--his may be the best, but they don't enjoy it as they do mine--and when I am at home I run down once a week or so to see how they are getting on." "And how is it now?" "Now the house is just packed, I believe, from top to bottom. I got a letter a few days ago from my faithful lieutenant, who looks after things for me, to say that it couldn't hold many more, and that the funds of the institution are stretched to their utmost capacity to provide supplies." "The funds? Oh, you must certainly use that other money now!" "Yes, I shall use it now. I have, indeed, already appropriated a small instalment. I told Le Breton to draw on it, rather than let one child go that we could take--rather than let one opportunity be lost." "You have other people working with you, then?" "A good many--yes, and a very miscellaneous lot you would think them. Le Breton is the one I trust as I do myself. I could not have been here now if it had not been for him. He is my right hand." "Who is he?" she asked, fascinated, in spite of her preoccupations, by this sketch of a life that had really found its mission in the world, and one so beneficent and so satisfying. "He is a very interesting man," said Mr. Yelverton, who still leaned towards her, touching her flowers occasionally with a tender audacity; "a man to respect and admire--a brave man who would have been burnt at the stake had he lived a few centuries ago. He was once a clergyman, but he gave that up." "He gave it up!" repeated Elizabeth, who had read "Thomas à Kempis" and the _Christian Year_ daily since she was a child, as her mother had done before her.