Miss Deborah was looking very hard at Jan. Something seemed to be on her mind; some great fear. "He says he may not be back for ever so long to come, Mr. Jan." "So he told me," said Jan. "And is that the reason he took you into partnership, Mr. Jan?" "Yes," said Jan. "Couldn't leave an assistant for an indefinite period." "You will never be able to do it all yourself. I little thought, when all this bustle and changing of bedrooms was going on, what was up. You might have told me, Mr. Jan," she added, in a reproachful tone. "It wasn't my place to tell you," returned Jan. "It was the doctor's." Miss Deborah looked timidly round, and then sunk her voice to a lower whisper. "Mr. Jan, _why_ has he gone away?" "For his health," persisted Jan. "They are saying--they are saying--Mr. Jan, what is it that they are saying about papa and those ladies at Chalk Cottage?" Jan laid hold of the pestle and mortar, popped in a big lump of some hard-looking white substance, and began pounding away at it. "How should I know anything about the ladies at Chalk Cottage?" asked he. "I never was inside their door; I never spoke to any one of 'em." "But you know that things are being said," urged Miss Deborah, with almost feverish eagerness. "Don't you?" "Who told you anything was being said?" asked Jan. "It was Master Cheese. Mr. Jan, folks have seemed queer lately. The servants have whispered together, and then have glanced at me and Amilly, and I knew there was something wrong, but I could not get at it. This morning, when I picked up this note--it's not five minutes ago, Mr. Jan--in my fright and perplexity I shrieked out; and Master Cheese, he said something about Chalk Cottage." "What did he say?" asked Jan. Miss Deborah's pale face turned to crimson. "I can't tell," she said. "I did not hear the words rightly. Master Cheese caught them up again. Mr. Jan, I have come to you to tell me." Jan answered nothing. He was pounding very fiercely. "Mr. Jan, I ought to know it," she went on. "I am not a child. If you please I must _request_ you to tell me." "What are you shivering for?" asked Jan. "I can't help it. Is--is it anything that--that he can be taken up for?" "Taken up!" replied Jan, ceasing from his pounding, and fixing his wide-open eyes on Miss Deborah. "Can I be taken up for doing this?"--and he brought down the pestle with such force as to threaten the destruction of the mortar. "You'll tell me, please," she shivered. "Well," said Jan, "if you must know it, the doctor had a misfortune." "A misfortune! He! What misfortune! A misfortune at Chalk Cottage?" Jan gravely nodded. "And they were in an awful rage with him, and said he should pay expenses, and all that. And he wouldn't pay expenses--the chimney-glass alone was twelve pound fifteen; and there was a regular quarrel, and they turned him out." "But what was the nature of the misfortune?" "He set the parlour chimney on fire."