"Hah! That is a relief," said Clive, with a sigh. "A quiet old officer who lives retired there, Doctor. He too has put his all into the mine. We have become very intimate." "And has he a pretty daughter, too, like this old fool?" Clive started, and his cheeks flushed as he remained silent for a few moments. "Yes, Doctor, he has a daughter." Doctor Praed held out his hand, and shook Clive's warmly. "I'm very glad, my boy," he said gently. "The wisest thing. I hope she is very nice. There, I will not ask you. It is quite right--quite right." They sat sipping their tea for a few minutes, the Doctor looking perfectly content now, Clive thoughtful; and the black marble clock on the chimneypiece struck six. "Doctor," said Clive at last, "I am bitterly grieved about this business: more so than I can express." "Then now throw it over as far as I am concerned. It was an error. I committed it, and I am punished. I have too much to think about to worry any more; so have you." "But I must make it up to you, sir." "What! Give me the money?" "Yes." "Rubbish, boy! It is of no use to me. I should only go and lose that too." "But I feel to blame." "More fool you, sir. There, not another word. The money has gone. Jolly go with it. I should like you to read my pamphlet." "But, my dear sir--" "Clive Reed, I will not have another word. Look here. I tell you what," he said, with a chuckle; "have you made your will?" "No, sir; not yet." "Make it then, and leave me to be paid at your death the amount I have lost. I won't poison you to get it, my lad. There, no more talk about money. Now then, go upstairs and have three hours' good sleep. Breakfast at nine." "No: I could not sleep," said Clive. "I'll go on now to Guildford Street. They will be getting up there by this time. Then I'm in for a busy day." CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. ALONE. Breakfast-time at the cottage, and as a step was heard upon the stony path, Dinah rose quickly from her seat, then coloured and resumed her place, for she knew that it was impossible for her to receive letters so soon. Then as the steps were heard receding, Martha entered bearing a packet of newspapers and a letter. "Hallo! what a budget!" cried the Major. "Who can have sent these?" He opened the letter first, a business-like looking document, and read:-- "Draper's Buildings, E.C., August 18--. "To Major Gurdon, The Cottage, Blinkdale Tor. "Dear Sir,--As we have frequently done business for you, we esteem it our duty to let you know of the very great fall which has taken place in the mining shares which--as you will remember in opposition to our advice--were bought by you a short time since. We send herewith seven of the daily papers that you may see how serious the business is, and we should strongly advise you either to come up and confer with us, or to telegraph your instructions.