"The Daneford Bank is now secure and in a prosperous condition, but I have nothing beyond its prosperity, so that, compared with the time I got the Bank, I am a poor man, for I have lost all my private fortune. Does it not seem strange to you, mother, that I, a poor man, should aspire to the hand of a baronet's poor daughter?" "But, Henry, this is a love romance, and in love romances all things are possible." "I have explained to you, mother, that it is a _business_, and not a love romance. But I have not told you half the romance yet." "I am most anxious to hear it." "I have never said a word of love to her yet. I do believe a word of love has never yet been spoken to her, and already there is a rival in the field, so that now we have every element of success." "And who is this rival?" "The new baronet, Sir William Midharst." "Sir William Midharst! I thought he was in Egypt." "He has been, but he got back just in time for Sir Alexander's funeral. He walked to the funeral with me, came back and fell in love with his cousin Maud." "How do you know this?" "Mrs. Grant told me." "And does Mrs. Grant know you are in love with Miss Midharst?" "No, nor any one else." "I, for instance, know." "Who told you?" "You." "Never." "He forgets already what he told me a few minutes ago. This is terrible. I shall not be able to stand it much longer. My poor Wat! I wonder what has turned his brain?" the mother thought. She endeavoured to keep on her face an expression of vivacious interest. He spoke again. "I never told you I was in love with Maud Midharst. I only told you that it is absolutely necessary I should marry her." "In some things," the mother thought, "he is as clear as ever. Of course all this talk of his marrying Miss Midharst is the result of some way poor Bee's death affected him," she reflected. Aloud she said, "But, Henry, if you do not love her, and if she is poor and you are not rich, why are you compelled to marry her?" "If any one knew the answer to that question, mother, that person could put me in the dock and convict me of embezzlement." She started to her feet and placed her hand on his shoulder, and cried in a voice of agony: "My God, my son is mad!" He rose quietly and put both his hands tenderly on her shoulders, and whispered hoarsely in her ear: "I am not mad now. I never was more sane in my life. I _was_ mad when I stole Sir Alexander's savings to the last penny. It was with his money I saved the Bank." "Great God, what do I hear!" "The truth. I am no better than a thief. I have stolen the old man's savings and the young girl's fortune, and, unless I marry her, I shall be found out. Did I not tell you I was in the company of a villain when I came in first? Now you believe me." "And you lied to me when you told me about that money from the Pacific coast? Ten thousand times better madness than this!" "I did." "You, Henry, my son, lied to me?" "Yes."