’I’m ashamed that I lost my temper, Mr. Crewe.  I am in a hurry to get home.’

In the booking-office at Ludgate Hill it is not easy to detain, by chivalrous discourse, a lady bent on escaping; but Crewe attempted it.  He subdued his voice, spoke rapidly and with emotion, implored that he might be heard for a moment.  Would she not permit him to call upon her?  He had waited, respecting her seclusion.  He asked for nothing whatever but permission to call, as any acquaintance might.

’Have you heard I have opened an office in Farringdon Street?  I should so like to tell you all about it—­what I’m doing—­’

‘No one calls to see me,’ said Nancy, with firmness.  ’I wish to live quite alone.  I’m very sorry to seem unfriendly.’

‘Is it anything I’ve done?’

’No—­nothing whatever.  I assure you, nothing.  Let us say good-bye; I can’t stop another moment.’

They shook hands and so parted.

‘You’re back early,’ said Mary, when Nancy entered the drawing-room.

’Yes.  I left Jessica to her books sooner than usual.  The examination draws near.’

Quiet, sad, diligent ever, Mary kept unchanged the old domestic routine.  There was the same perfect order, the same wholesome economy, as when she worked under the master’s eyes.  Nancy had nothing to do but enjoy the admirable care with which she was surrounded; she took it all as a matter of course, never having considered the difference between her own home and those of her acquaintances.

Horace had dined, and was gone out again.  They talked of him; Mary said that he had spoken of moving into lodgings very soon.

‘Of course he doesn’t tell us everything,’ said Nancy.  ’I feel pretty sure that he’s going to leave the office, but how he means to live I don’t understand.  Perhaps Mrs. Damerel will give him money, or lend it him.  I only hope she may break it off between him and Fanny.’

‘Hasn’t he told you that Fanny is often with Mrs. Damerel?’

‘With her?’ Nancy exclaimed.  ‘He never said a word of it to me.’

’He said so to me this evening, and laughed when I looked surprised.’

’Well then, I don’t pretend to understand what’s going on.  We can’t do anything.’

About nine o’clock the servant entered the room, bringing Miss.  Lord a note, which had just been left by a cab-driver.  Nancy, seeing that the address was in Tarrant’s hand, opened it with a flutter of joy; such a proceeding as this, openly sending a note by a messenger, could only mean that her husband no longer cared to preserve secrecy.  To her astonishment, the envelope contained but a hurried line.

’Not a word yet to any one.  Without fail, come to-morrow afternoon, at four.’

With what show of calmness she could command, she looked up at her companion.

’The idea of his sending in this way!  It’s that Mr. Crewe I’ve told you of.  I met him as I was coming home, and had to speak to him rather sharply to get rid of him.  Here comes his apology, foolish man!’