“It would be a good marriage; the kind of marriage you ought to make.  Alan’s rich and can give you the things you like and ought to have.  But with all that, I imagine you’d sooner let it go?”

“I hate it,” Grace said quietly.  “I don’t like Alan; I never shall like him.”

“He has some drawbacks,” Gerald remarked, and was silent.  He had not often a generous impulse, but he was moved by his sister’s distress and thought he saw a plan.  The plan was extravagant, and risky for him.

“I wonder whether you’d sooner marry Askew?” he resumed.

Grace moved abruptly and her face got red.  She had not expected the question and was highly strung.  Gerald saw her embarrassment and went on: 

“Of course, he’s an outsider, from our point of view, but he’s a good sort.  In fact, he’s much better than Alan.  Besides, there’s some ground for believing you are pretty good friends.”

“Stop!” Grace exclaimed.  “This has nothing to do with you.  It’s unthinkable that you should meddle!”

Gerald smiled.  “I’m not going to give Askew a hint, if that is what you mean.  I wanted to find out if you’d shrink from him as you shrink from Alan, and I think I know.”

“You don’t know,” Grace declared, and then stopped and blushed as she met his steady look.  After all, there was no use in pretending; Gerald would not be deceived.  Still, when he quietly got up she asked with alarm:  “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to Ashness,” Gerald replied.  “I’ve made things hard for you and mother, but I won’t bring you fresh embarrassment now.  In fact, I think you can trust me, and, indeed, it’s obvious that you must.”  He turned and looked back with a smile.  “If Askew’s the man I think, the chief will shortly get a jar.”

Grace wanted to call him back, but somehow could not, and sat still while he crossed the lawn.  So long as she could see him, he moved carelessly, but when he went down the drive behind a clipped hedge his step got slow and his face was hard.  The thing he meant to do would need some pluck, and might be dangerous if he had not judged Askew right.

In the meantime, Kit went back to Ashness and smoked a cigarette while he pondered what Grace had told him.  He had seen that she did not altogether know her brother’s offense, but since money was needed, Kit could guess; Gerald had been betting or speculating and had used money that was not his.  Undoubtedly, Kit did not think he had robbed his employers, because, if he had done so, he would not have stayed at Tarnside.  He had, however, robbed somebody, and as Kit remembered his skill with the pen he saw a light.  Gerald had used somebody else’s name, on the back of a bill or promissory note, and now the bill must be met.

Presently he heard steps in the passage and looking up as Gerald came in indicated a chair.  Gerald sat down and for a few moments Kit studied him quietly.  It was obvious that he felt some strain, but his look was resolute and Kit owned that he had more pluck than he had thought.  The room was very quiet and the shadow of a big ash tree fell across the open window.  The musical tinkle of a binder working among the corn came faintly down the dale.