When he found himself alone in the street, his mind reverted to Dobbs Broughton and the fate of the wretched man, and he sauntered slowly down Paris Gardens, that he might look at the house in which he had dined with a man who had destroyed himself by his own hands.  He stood for a moment looking up at the windows, in which there was now no light, thinking of the poor woman whom he had seen in the midst of luxury, and who was now left a widow in such miserable circumstances!  As for the suggestion that his friend Conway would marry her, he did not believe it for a moment.  He knew too well what the suggestions of his Madalina were worth, and the motives from which they sprung.  But he thought it might be true that Mrs Van Siever had absorbed all there was of the property, and possibly, also, that Musselboro was to marry her daughter.  At any rate, he would go to Dalrymple’s rooms, and if he could find him, would learn the truth.  He knew enough of Dalrymple’s ways of life, and of the ways of his friend’s chambers and studio, to care nothing for the lateness of the hour, and in a very few minutes he was sitting in Dalrymple’s arm-chair.  He found Siph Dunn there, smoking in unperturbed tranquillity, and as long as that lasted he could ask no questions about Mrs Broughton.  He told them, therefore, of his adventures abroad, and of Crawley’s escape.  But at last, having finished his third pipe, Siph Dunn took his leave.

‘Tell me,’ said John, as soon as Dunn had closed the door, ’what is this I hear about Dobbs Broughton?’

‘He has blown his brains out.  That is all.’

‘How terribly shocking!’

‘Yes; it shocked us all at first.  We are used to it now.’

‘And the business?’

’That has gone to the dogs.  They say at least that his share of it had done so.’

‘And he was ruined?’

‘They say so.  That is, Musselboro says so, and Mrs Van Siever.’

‘And what do you say, Conway?’

’The less I say the better.  I have my hopes—­only you’re such a talkative fellow, one can’t trust you.’

‘I never told any secret of yours, old fellow.’

’Well—­that fact is, I have an idea that something may be saved for the poor woman.  I think that they are wronging her.  Of course all I can do is put the matter into lawyer’s hands and pay the lawyer’s bill.  So I went to your cousin, and he has taken the case up.  I hope he won’t ruin me.’

‘Then I suppose you are quarrelling with Mrs Van?’

‘That doesn’t matter.  She has quarrelled with me.’

’And what about Jael, Conway?  They tell me Jael is going to become Mrs Musselboro.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘A bird.’

’Yes; I know who the bird is.  I don’t think that Jael will become Mrs Musselboro.  I don’t think Jael would become Mrs Musselboro, if Jael were the only woman, and Musselboro the only man in London.  To tell you a little bit of a secret, Johnny, I think that Jael will become the wife of Conway Dalrymple.  That is my opinion; and as far as I can judge, it is the opinion of Jael also.’