ill--all I've said goes for nothing, I
suppose?" he broke off sharply.

Tommy, who had tried to speak, also stopped, and the two glared at each
other.

But it was the younger who gave way first. "It does not go for nothing,
Dr. Craig, and perhaps I ought to feel grateful to you, sir, and all
that, for taking such a--a kind interest----"

"Go on," said the doctor sardonically. "'A kind interest'--aweel?"

"But you don't, you can't know. You judge every case by your own.
Because you were hardly treated, you think every woman deceitful. And
yet, Leonore----"

"Leonore?"

"I do not call her that to her face, sir; I do not indeed."

"For which the Lord be praised--though it is but a small mercy. Did not
I say it was in _thought_, my lad--but have it out, Tommy--such thoughts
are best let out, like ill birds. Keeping them pent, they breed. Loose,
they may fly away. How long has this been going on?" Suddenly the
speaker's tone changed, becoming peremptory and commonplace.

Tommy murmured inaudibly.

"Speak out," thundered Dr. Craig, losing patience, "speak out, sir, and
be damned to you. How long?"

"We met first on the last day of March."

"How? When? Where?"

"Accidentally. In the village. In the post-office. Till that day I had
never----"

"No matter about that. What happened at this precious meeting? Answer me
truly, Tommy, for----" he paused, and once more the angry tone softened.
"You have neither father nor mother, and I've got to see you through
this brash. The truth I _must have_, so out with it."

"She spoke to me," owned Tommy, reluctantly. "She knew who I was, and
asked if I would take a message to Mrs. Craig?"

"Well?"

"Afterwards she was not sure that she had got the message correctly--it
was from Miss Boldero, I believe,--and--and----"

"And you had to walk back with her to the Abbey and get it?"

Now this was precisely what had happened, but the dry tone with its
covert mockery, stung.

"Certainly I had. I don't know why you should speak to me so, Dr. Craig?
I did what every man in my case would have done. And Mrs. Stubbs----"

"That's better. 'Mrs. Stubbs.' Never let me hear 'Leonore' again."

"Dash it, I can manage my own affairs, sir. I--I don't need either your
advice or interference. You take advantage of your position, and of--of
a moment's weakness on my part. Please to let me alone in future."
White, infuriated, and shaking like a reed, the wretched lad struggled
desperately