“I don’t care to go into business again,” he said, with a mingling of real annoyance and affected superiority.  “I have other views.”

“Can I help to advance them?” asked Denzil, sickening under the necessity of speaking fair.

The dialogue lasted for half an hour more.  Jealousy notwithstanding, Northway had made up his mind to gain what was to be gained.  Lilian was beyond his reach; it would be foolish to go back to his poverty and cloudy overlook when solid assistance was held out to him.  With much posturing and circumlocution, he came at length to the avowal that a sum of ready money would not be refused.

“Are you wise in preferring this to the other kind of help?” Denzil urged.

“I have my own views.”

Quarrier ridiculed himself for what he was doing.  How could he pretend to trust such a fellow?  Again, there was only the hope that a bribe might be efficacious.

“I will give you five hundred pounds,” he said, “on condition that you leave England at once.”

The bid was too low.  Northway would be satisfied with twice as much, provided it were paid forthwith.  Pondering, Quarrier decided that he was about to commit an absurdity.  A thousand pounds—­and how much more in future?  He looked Northway in the eyes.

“Here is my last word.  I don’t greatly care whether this secret comes out or not.  If I am to be at your mercy henceforth, I had rather bid you do what you like; it really doesn’t matter much to me.  I will give you five hundred pounds at once—­a cheque on a Polterham banker; moreover, if my secret is kept, I will do you the other service I offered.  But that’s all I have to say.  If it doesn’t suit you, you must do what you please.”

His boldness was successful.  Northway could gain nothing by betrayal of the secret—­which he believed to be no secret at all.  With show of indifference, he accepted what was obtainable.

“Then come and drive with me into the town,” said Denzil.

Thereupon he stepped out and entered the sitting-room, where the two women were together.  They looked eager inquiry, and he smiled.

“Managed, I think.  He goes with me.  Lily, I’ll be back for you as soon as possible.”

A moment, and they watched the carriage roll away.

CHAPTER XXIII

This evening there was a great dinner-party at Colonel Catesby’s; a political dinner.  Lilian had carefully prepared for the occasion.  In Quarrier’s opinion, she would far outshine her previous appearances; she was to wear certain jewels which he had purchased on a recent visit to town—­at an outlay of which he preferred to say nothing definite.  “They are the kind of thing,” he remarked, with a significant smile, “that can be passed on to one’s children.”

But would it be possible for her to keep the engagement?  Through the afternoon she lay in her bedroom with drawn blinds, endeavouring to sleep.  Once or twice Denzil entered, very softly, and stood by her for a moment; she looked at him and smiled, but did not speak.  At half-past six he brought her tea with his own hand.  Declaring herself quite recovered, she rose.