Through the Misses Lumb, Godwin’s change of purpose had of course become known to his aunt, who for a time took it ill that these debates had been concealed from her.  When Mrs. Peak, in confidence, apprised her of the disturbing cause, Miss Cadman’s indignation knew no bounds.  What!  That low fellow had been allowed to interfere with the progress of Godwin Peak’s education, and not a protest uttered?  He should have been forbidden to establish himself in Kingsmill!  Why had they not taken her into council?  She would have faced the man, and have overawed him; he should have been made to understand the gross selfishness of his behaviour.  Never had she heard of such a monstrous case—­

Godwin spent much time in quiet examination of the cabinets bequeathed to him by Mr. Gunnery.  He used a pound or two of Lady Whitelaw’s money for the purchase of scientific books, and set to work upon them with freshened zeal.  The early morning and late evening were given to country walks, from which he always returned with brain excited by the forecast of great achievements.

When the time of his departure approached, he decided to pay a farewell visit to Mr. Moxey.  He chose an hour when the family would probably be taking their ease in the garden.  Three of the ladies were, in fact, amusing themselves with croquet, while their father, pipe in mouth, bent over a bed of calceolarias.

‘What’s this that I hear?’ exclaimed Mr. Moxey, as he shook hands.  ‘You are not going back to Whitelaw?’

The story had of course spread among all Twybridge people who knew anything of the Peaks, and it was generally felt that some mystery was involved.  Godwin had reasonably feared that his obligations to Sir Job Whitelaw must become known; impossible for such a matter to be kept secret; all who took any interest in the young man had long been privately acquainted with the facts of his position.  Now that discussion was rife, it would have been prudent in the Misses Lumb to divulge as much of the truth at they knew, but (in accordance with the law of natural perversity) they maintained a provoking silence.  Hence whispers and suspicious questions, all wide of the mark.  No one had as yet heard of Andrew Peak, and it seemed but too likely that Lady Whitelaw, for some good reason, had declined to discharge the expenses of Godwin’s last year at the College.

Mr. Moxey himself felt that an explanation was desirable, but he listened with his usual friendly air to Godwin’s account of the matter—­which of course included no mention of Lady Whitelaw.

‘Have you friends in London?’ he inquired—­like everyone else.

’No.  Except that your nephew was so kind as to ask me to call on him, if ever I happened to be there.’

There passed over Mr. Moxey’s countenance a curious shadow.  Godwin noticed it, and at once concluded that the manufacturer condemned Christian for undue advances to one below his own station.  The result of this surmise was of course a sudden coldness on Godwin’s part, increased when he found that Mr. Moxey turned to another subject, without a word about his nephew.