'Winefred is to be no more called Marley, but is to bear her father's name, Holwood.' 'And you?' 'Oh! I am nothing. I matter naught. I have been known as Marley. I am going back, but Winefred is beginning. That makes the difference;' and as Jane walked in the darkness back to the Undercliff she said to herself, 'It is done. I cannot draw back now. I have taken the first step. But Winefred shall be a lady.' CHAPTER XXI FURTHER FORWARD The search outside the house proved as barren of results as had been that within. The undercliff was so broken as to offer many places in which with ingenuity and some labour recesses might be formed in which much could be concealed. But to a hiding-place of this description there must be a track; and the fallen elder-twigs, and scattered leaves, the straggling binds of bramble armed with terrible hooks, the thickets of thorn undisturbed, showed that no runs had been made from the house to any particular spot. Discouraged, Olver leaned his elbows on a mass of chalk, laid one huge red hand over the other, palm downward, looked across the block at Jack, who was beyond, and said, 'I'm darned, if this is not one of the worst jobs I have ever been in. I wish your father had wrote down on the slate where it was he had stowed the money.' 'That is, if he had anything to stow.' 'He must have had. He did have――else why should he have been in such a fear lest you should squander it?' 'If something had been saved and put away, we must have found it.' Dench remained looking steadily at Jack, but his thoughts were elsewhere. 'You don't think,' mused he, and he spoke to himself rather than to Jack, 'you don't think as how Jane Marley may have scented it, and have secured it, and got it now in that chest of hers. We have looked everywhere else. She is away now at Bindon. Let us prize open the lock and search it from end to end. I warrant it is there. It can be nowhere else that I can think of.' 'No,' answered Jack emphatically. 'To that I will not consent. If she chooses voluntarily to open, that will be another matter, but in her absence, without her knowledge――never.' 'Why not?' 'Because it is not right, and she a poor woman. I would rather let her have it than commit such an outrage.' 'You would, would you?' 'Certainly,' with some heat. 'Besides, I owe Winefred a debt of gratitude, and I will not repay it by an insult offered to her mother.' 'Well! men are made in different fashions and out of various clays. What, then, is to be done?' 'There is but one thing can be done――accept the situation. I must make up my mind to knock about till I can find work that will suit me. I have not expected much. If there had been a trifle I should have been well pleased; had there been much, my father would have given me to understand that it was so.' 'He has done this. He has told me and you plainly that he was resolved to make a gentleman of you.' 'He has given me education, and it is that which makes the gentleman.'