Miss Baird flushed in an angry way. "It seems to me that Mr. Barras takes a great deal upon himself," she said, haughtily. "Since Uncle Henry is ill, and trusts me, I am the one to be spoken to, about these matters, and not Dr. Jerce. I'll question Uncle Henry about the loan, and see that everything is put right." "Then I won't have to pay the three hundred," said the vicar, eagerly. "I can't say that," rejoined Clarice, bluntly. "I'll see what I can do. Of course, if Ferdy would only become engaged to Prudence, I might be able to do much, but as matters stand, Dr. Jerce and Mr. Barras may prove too strong for me." "But Mr. Horran trusts you--so you say, Clarice?" "He does. But he-Uncle Henry, I mean--has a great opinion of Dr. Jerce, and in his weak state may be influenced by him. I'll speak to the doctor and to Mr. Barras--more than this I can't promise." The vicar looked more miserable than ever and twice opened his mouth to speak. Each time he closed it, while Clarice wondered at his hesitation. "Do you think that everything is right with Mr. Horran?" asked Mr. Clarke, at length. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, startled. "Mr. Horran has no money, you know, save what he receives from your estate by acting as your guardian." Clarice stared. "I never knew that," she said, at length. "I understood, of course, that Uncle Henry received a sum for acting as guardian, since that is but right. But he has his own money and the house--" "The house you live in belonged to your father, and now belongs to you," said Clarke, rapidly, leaning forward with eagerness to emphasise his words. "I know, because I buried both your parents, and was present at the reading of the will. Mr. Horran loved your mother and was trusted by your father; but he never had any money. When your father died he left everything to your mother, in trust for you and Ferdinand. When she went the way of all flesh, she constituted Mr. Horran, who then managed her business, your guardian, as she trusted him, and he was hard up. Did not Mr. Barras tell you all these things, Clarice?" "No," she said, absently, and began to see that the lawyer had not trusted her so entirely as she had thought--neither had Horran, if the vicar was to be believed. "I shall speak to Uncle Henry," she said, after a pause, "and from him I shall learn the true position of affairs. Meantime, please say nothing, Mr. Clarke." "No. I'll be silent. But this three hundred interest--?" "I'll see about that also. I am sure that Uncle Henry does not mean to be hard on you. Of course, business may upset him, since he is so ill, and Dr. Jerce may be right in keeping you away. All the same, it seems to me that Dr. Jerce knows a good deal about our private affairs." "I am sure that Mr. Horran tells him everything," said Clarke, with a gloomy air, "and Dr. Jerce is not friendly towards me. I don't know why, since we were at college together, but he is not friendly."