As those words were spoken Mutimer issued from the Manor gates, uncertain whether to go his usual way down to the works or to pay a visit to Mrs. Waltham.  The latter purpose prevailed.

The evening before, Mr. Willis Rodman had called at the Manor shortly after dinner.  He found Mutimer smoking, with coffee at his side, and was speedily making himself comfortable in the same way.  Then he drew a newspaper from his pocket.  ’Have you seen the “Belwick Chronicle” of to-day?’ he inquired.

‘Why the deuce should I read such a paper?’ exclaimed Richard, with good-humoured surprise.  He was in excellent spirits to-night, the excitement of the day having swept his mind clear of anxieties.

‘There’s something in it, though, that you ought to see.’

He pointed out the paragraph relating to Eldon.

‘Keene’s writing, eh?’ said Mutimer thoughtfully.

‘Yes, he gave me the paper.’

Richard rekindled his cigar with deliberation, and stood for a few moments with one foot on the fender.

‘Who is the woman?’ he then asked.

‘I don’t know her name.  Of course it’s the same story continued.’

‘And concluded.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ said the other, smiling and shaking his head.

‘This may or may not be true, I suppose,’ was Richard’s next remark.

’Oh, I suppose the man hears all that kind of thing.  I don’t see any reason to doubt it.’

‘May I keep the paper?’

’Oh, yes.  Keene told me, by-the-by, that he gave a copy to young Waltham.’

Mr. Rodman spoke whilst rolling the cigar in his mouth.  Mutimer allowed the subject to lapse.

There was no impossibility, no improbability even, in the statement made by the newspaper correspondent; yet as Richard thought it over in the night, he could not but regard it as singular that Mr. Keene should be the man to make public such a piece of information so very opportunely.  He was far from having admitted the man to his confidence, but between Keene and Rodman, as he was aware, an intimacy had sprung up.  It might be that one or the other had thought it worth while to serve him; why should Keene be particular to put a copy of the paper into Alfred Waltham’s hands?  Well, he personally knew nothing of the affair.  If the news effected anything, so much the better.  He hoped it might be trustworthy.

Among his correspondence in the morning was a letter from Emma Vine.  He opened it last; anyone observing him would have seen with what reluctance he began to read it.

‘My dear Richard,’ it ran, ’I write to thank you for the money.  I would very much rather have had a letter from you, however short a one.  It seems long since you wrote a real letter, and I can’t think how long since I have seen you.  But I know how full of business you are, dear, and I’m sure you would never come to London without telling me, because if you hadn’t time