ways contrived to find some
plausible reason for refusal. "Write at once," Mr. Mool advised. "You
may do it in two lines. Your wife is ill; Miss Carmina is ill; you are
not able to leave London--and the children are pining for fresh air." In
this sense, Mr. Gallilee wrote. He insisted on having the letter sent to
the post immediately. "I know it's long before post-time," he explained.
"But I want to compose my mind."

The lawyer paused, with his glass of wine at his lips. "I say! You're
not hesitating already?"

"No more than you are," Mr. Gallilee answered.

"You will really send the girls away?"

"The girls shall go, on the day when Lady Northlake invites them."

"I'll make a note of that," said Mr. Mool.

He made the note; and they rose to say good-bye. Faithful Mr. Gallilee
still thought of Carmina. "Do consider it again!" he said at parting.
"Are you sure the law won't help her?"

"I might look at her father's Will," Mr. Mool replied.

Mr. Gallilee saw the hopeful side of this suggestion, in the brightest
colours. "Why didn't you think of it before?" he asked.

Mr. Mool gently remonstrated. "Don't forget how many things I have on
my mind," he said. "It only occurs to me now that the Will may give us
a remedy--if there is any _open_ opposition to the ward's marriage
engagement, on the guardian's part."

There he stopped; knowing Mrs. Gallilee's methods of opposition too
well to reckon hopefully on such a result as this. But he was a merciful
man--and he kept his misgivings to himself.

On the way home, Mr. Gallilee encountered his wife's maid. Marceline was
dropping a letter into the pillar-post-box at the corner of the Square;
she changed colour, on seeing her master. "Corresponding with her
sweetheart," Mr. Gallilee concluded.

Entering the house with an unfinished cigar in his mouth, he made
straight for the smoking-room--and passed his youngest daughter, below
him, waiting out of sight on the kitchen stairs.

"Have you done it?" Zo whispered, when Marceline returned by the
servants' entrance.

"It's safe in the post, dear. Now tell me what you saw yesterday, when
you were hidden in Miss Carmina's bedroom."

The tone in which she spoke implied a confidential agreement. With
honourable promptitude Zo, perched on her friend's knee, exerted her
memory, and rewarded Marceline for posting her letter to Ovid.

CHAPTER XLIX.

It was past the middle of the day, before Mr. Le Frank paid his prom