“To have debts that I cannot meet.  To be hammered upon ’Change and declared a bankrupt.  To know that others have a just claim upon me and to feel that I dare not meet their eyes.  Is not that worse than poverty?”

“Yes, Harold, a thousand fold worse!  But all this may be got over.  Is there nothing more?”

“My partner has fled and left me responsible for heavy debts, and in such a position that I may be required by the law to produce some at least of this missing money.  It has been confided to him to invest, and he has embezzled it.  I, as his partner, am liable for it.  I have brought misery on all whom I love—­my father, my mother.  But you at least shall not be under the shadow.  You are free, Clara.  There is no tie between us.”

“It takes two to make such a tie, Harold,” said she, smiling and putting her hand inside his arm.  “It takes two to make it, dear, and also two to break it.  Is that the way they do business in the City, sir, that a man can always at his own sweet will tear up his engagement?”

“You hold me to it, Clara?”

“No creditor so remorseless as I, Harold.  Never, never shall you get from that bond.”

“But I am ruined.  My whole life is blasted.”

“And so you wish to ruin me, and blast my life also.  No indeed, sir, you shall not get away so lightly.  But seriously now, Harold, you would hurt me if it were not so absurd.  Do you think that a woman’s love is like this sunshade which I carry in my hand, a thing only fitted for the sunshine, and of no use when the winds blow and the clouds gather?”

“I would not drag you down, Clara.”

“Should I not be dragged down indeed if I left your side at such a time?  It is only now that I can be of use to you, help you, sustain you.  You have always been so strong, so above me.  You are strong still, but then two will be stronger.  Besides, sir, you have no idea what a woman of business I am.  Papa says so, and he knows.”

Harold tried to speak, but his heart was too full.  He could only press the white hand which curled round his sleeve.  She walked up and down by his side, prattling merrily, and sending little gleams of cheeriness through the gloom which girt him in.  To listen to her he might have thought that it was Ida, and not her staid and demure sister, who was chatting to him.

“It will soon be cleared up,” she said, “and then we shall feel quite dull.  Of course all business men have these little ups and downs.  Why, I suppose of all the men you meet upon ’Change, there is not one who has not some such story to tell.  If everything was always smooth, you know, then of course every one would turn stockbroker, and you would have to hold your meetings in Hyde Park.  How much is it that you need?”

“More than I can ever get.  Not less than thirteen thousand pounds.”

Clara’s face fell as she heard the amount.  “What do you purpose doing?”