this
point.

"Take time," said Arnold; "there is no hurry."

Mr. Emblem shook his head.

"I shall remember the rest to-morrow, perhaps," he said.

"Is there anything else you have to help us?" asked Arnold: "never
mind the letter, Mr. Emblem. No doubt that will come back presently.
You see we want to find out, first, who Iris's father really was, and
what is her real name. There was his coat-of-arms. That will connect
her with some family, though it may be a family with many branches."

"Yes--oh yes! his coat-of-arms. I have seen his signet-ring a dozen
times. Yes, his coat; yes, first and fourth, two roses and a boar's
head erect; second and third--I forget."

"Humph! Was there any one who knew him before he was married?"

"Yes, yes," Mr. Emblem sat up eagerly. "Yes, there is--there is; he is
my oldest customer. But I forget his name, I have forgotten
everything. Perhaps I shall get back my memory to-morrow. But I am
old. Perhaps it will never get back."

He leaned his head upon his hands, and stared about him with
bewildered eyes.

"I do not know, young man," he said presently, addressing Arnold, "who
you are. If you come from Mr. Chalker, let me tell you it is a day too
soon. To-morrow we will speak of business." Then he sprung to his feet
suddenly, struck with a thought which pierced him like a dagger.
"To-morrow! It is the day when they will come to sell me up. Oh, Iris!
what did that matter when you were safe? Now we are all paupers
together--all paupers."

He fell back in his chair white and trembling. Iris soothed him;
kissed his cheek and pressed his hand; but the terror and despair of
bankruptcy were upon him. This is an awful specter, which is ever
ready to appear before the man who has embarked his all in one
venture. A disastrous season, two or three unlucky ventures, a
succession of bad debts, and the grisly specter stands before them.
He had no terror for the old man so long as he thought that Iris was
safe. But now--

"Idle talk, Iris--idle talk, child," he said, when they tried to
comfort him. "How can a girl make money by teaching? Idle talk, young
man. How can money be made by painting? It's as bad a trade as
writing. How can money be made anyhow but in an honest shop? And
to-morrow I shall have no shop, and we shall all go into the street
together!"

Presently, when lamentations had yielded to despair, they persuaded
him to go to bed. It was past midnight. Iris went upstairs with him