"Yes." "I am going to ask you what I asked you once before. You did not answer then. I entreat you to do so now. When was the last time you saw my father in this house?" The girl drew back in dismay; not a syllable came from her parted lips. "Was it since I asked you the question last?" cried Harry, his imagination at its wildest work in a moment. "No." "Was it after he was supposed to have disappeared?" "No." "Was it after he left my mother up north?" Miss Lowndes turned away, but there was a mirror over the mantelpiece, and in it he could see her scarlet anguish. Harry set his teeth. He must know the truth--the truth came first. "So he was here on his way through town. I understood it was my mother who saw him last. I have to thank you--I do so from my heart--for setting me so far upon the right track. Oh, I know what it must be to you to have such things forced from you! I hate to press you like this. No, Miss Lowndes, duty or no duty, you have only to say the word, and I will leave you alone." He could not bear the sight of her quivering shoulders, of the pretty pink ear that was all her hands now let him see of her face. Unconsciously, however, he had made his strongest appeal in his latest words; his magnanimity fired that of the girl, his consideration touched her to the quick, and she turned to him with noble impulse in her frank, wet eyes. "I will tell you of the last time I saw your father," she cried, "on one condition. You are to question me no more when I have finished." Harry took her hand. "I promise," he said, and released it instantly. It was no time to think of her. He must think only of his purpose--his duty--his sacred obligation as a son. "It was on Easter Eve," said his friend steadily. "I was up in my room--it was just dinner-time--and I saw him come in at the gate." She could not conceal a shudder. "He looked terrible--terrible--so sad and so old! My father must have seen him too. I heard their voices, but I did not hear what they said; my father lowered his voice, and I thought I heard him telling Mr. Ringrose to do the same. It was all I did hear. My father came upstairs and said a business friend had come unexpectedly, and would I mind not coming down? So my dinner was sent up to me, and afterwards in the dark I saw them go together to the gate; and at the very gate they met that dreadful man--that man whose face alone is enough to haunt one. Oh, you know him better than any of us! You are a master in the same school." "Not now," said Harry. "I left yesterday on that man's account. Didn't he come here yesterday to tell your father?" "Not here. He may have been to the new offices. I saw last night there had been some unpleasantness. Unpleasantness! If you knew what we have suffered from that monster! One reason why we got in such difficulties was because he was always coming----" She checked herself suddenly, with a gesture of disgust and of some underlying emotion.