“Very bravely. Vowed eternal fidelity, and all that sort of thing. But Riddell is too much of a man to take her at her word, and swears to be nobody’s husband until he is proved innocent. And quite right, too. In fact, I hope Annie will get over her infatuation in any case, for I have no fancy for being pointed at as the father-in-law of a man who has been in gaol. You see, although we never for a moment believe that the poor lad had anything to do with the robbery, and are sure that he is the victim of a vile plot, it will be difficult to get the world to think as we do, and, to tell the truth, it’s a deucedly nasty business all round.” While Mr. Cory had been speaking, Annie had gone up to her own room, and Miss Cory had rung her bell in order to give some directions to a servant before she followed her niece upstairs. “Williamson,” she said, “bring two glasses of hot milk here as quickly as possible.” She delivered herself of this order very quietly. But no sooner was the servant’s back turned than she emptied the vials of her wrath on to her brother’s devoted head. “John Cory,” she said, drawing her really majestic figure up to its full height, and speaking with a solemn deliberation which she only affected on serious occasions. “I’m ashamed of you! I never expected to see the day when my father’s son would deliberately contemplate the desertion and permanent abandonment of a man whose sole sin is his betrayal by some villain who has cunningly contrived to divert suspicion from himself to an innocent man. John Cory, if I could believe that you would do this vile thing, I would leave your roof for ever.” “But, my dear girl----” “Don’t ‘my dear girl’ me! You never do it except when you want to talk me over, and at fifty-six I’m too old to swallow gross flattery. Just tell me this--Do you mean to turn your back on young Riddell now that he is powerless to help himself, or do you mean to act like a man?” “Of course, I mean to do all I can for him.” “I knew you did. All the same, the bare thought that you could dream of revoking what you promised just before the poor lad’s calamity overtook him, made me feel as if I could shake you. Oh, here’s your milk. Just put your brandy in yourself and drink it, while I go upstairs to Annie. Williamson, see that we have dinner punctually.” Williamson, having acknowledged her mistress’s order with due deference, hurried away to expedite matters in the lower regions, and Miss Margaret Cory lost no more time in visiting her niece, whom she found sobbing as though her heart was breaking. At this sight, even Miss Margaret, stolid though she usually was, found herself considerably upset. She made a faint attempt to dissuade Annie from crying, but was convinced that her efforts were woefully inadequate, and eventually administered the truest consolation by breaking down herself and mingling her tears with those of the girl whom she loved more than any other being on earth.