Old Tom saw his farce reviving, and encouraged the Countess to patronize him.  She did so to an extent that called on her Mrs. Mel’s reprobation, which was so cutting and pertinent, that Harriet was compelled to defend her sister, remarking that perhaps her mother would soon learn that Louisa was justified in not permitting herself and family to be classed too low.  At this Andrew, coming from a private interview with Evan, threw up his hands and eyes as one who foretold astonishment but counselled humility.  What with the effort of those who knew a little to imply a great deal; of those who knew all to betray nothing; and of those who were kept in ignorance to strain a fact out of the conflicting innuendos the general mystification waxed apace, and was at its height, when a name struck on Evan’s ear that went through his blood like a touch of the torpedo.

He had been called into the parlour to assist at a consultation over the Brewery affairs.  Raikes opened the door, and announced, ’Sir Franks and Lady Jocelyn.’

Them he could meet, though it was hard for his pride to pardon their visit to him there.  But when his eyes discerned Rose behind them, the passions of his lower nature stood up armed.  What could she have come for but to humiliate, or play with him?

A very few words enabled the Countess to guess the cause for this visit.  Of course, it was to beg time!  But they thanked Evan.  For something generous, no doubt.

Sir Franks took him aside, and returning remarked to his wife that she perhaps would have greater influence with him.  All this while Rose sat talking to Mrs. Andrew Cogglesby, Mrs. Strike, and Evan’s mother.  She saw by his face the offence she had committed, and acted on by one of her impulses, said:  ‘Mama, I think if I were to speak to Mr. Harrington—­’

Ere her mother could make light of the suggestion, Old Tom had jumped up, and bowed out his arm.

’Allow me to conduct ye to the drawing room, upstairs, young lady.  He’ll follow, safe enough!’

Rose had not stipulated for that.  Nevertheless, seeing no cloud on her mother’s face, or her father’s, she gave Old Tom her hand, and awaited a movement from Evan.  It was too late to object to it on either side.  Old Tom had caught the tide at the right instant.  Much as if a grim old genie had planted them together, the lovers found themselves alone.

‘Evan, you forgive me?’ she began, looking up at him timidly.

‘With all my heart, Rose,’ he answered, with great cheerfulness.

’No.  I know your heart better.  Oh, Evan! you must be sure that we respect you too much to wound you.  We came to thank you for your generosity.  Do you refuse to accept anything from us?  How can we take this that you thrust on us, unless in some way—­’

‘Say no more,’ he interposed.  ’You see me here.  You know me as I am, now.’

‘Yes, yes!’ the tears stood in her eyes.  ’Why did I come, you would ask?  That is what you cannot forgive!  I see now how useless it was.  Evan! why did you betray me?’