hisper quietly."

"But there must be some mistake. Fordham comes in quite early, and very
often he doesn't go out at all in the evening."

"He goes out later," said Judith.

"Indeed, no. I could time all his movements. His room is next to mine,
and the wall is not so thick as I could wish. He snores sometimes."

"But--" she persisted, looking scared and white, yet what was Fordham to
her?--"but I have heard him over and over again, Mr. Thorne. I can't be
mistaken."

Percival was disconcerted too. He looked at the carpet, at his slippered
feet--at anything but her face: "You have heard some one, I suppose: I
don't know who comes in late. Not poor old Fordham." He heard Emma on
the stairs, and hurried to meet her. Coming back with his boots in his
hand, he found Judith standing exactly as he had left her.

"I'm sure I beg Mr. Fordham's pardon," she said with a smile. "One does
make curious mistakes, certainly. That nice-looking old man!" And
nodding farewell to young Thorne, she went away.

He did not see her again for two days, though he watched anxiously for
her. Bertie came in and out, and was much as usual. On the third
evening, as Percival was going up stairs, she called after him: "Mr.
Thorne."

He turned eagerly.

"You lent Bertie some money a day or two since?"

Something in her voice or her look made Percival sure that Lisle had
borrowed and spent it without her knowledge, and that it was a trouble
to her. After all, what did it matter? He would sell his watch and pay
Mrs. Bryant. He could not deny Bertie's debt, since she had found it
out, but he could make light of it. So he nodded: "Yes, by the the way,
I believe I did: he hadn't his purse or something." This in a tone of
airy indifference.

"Tell me how much it was, please, and I'll pay it back." Then he saw
that her purse was open in her hand.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Percival said: "don't pay me off in such a
quick, business-like way, Miss Lisle. I'm not the milkman, nor yet the
washing. Bertie will settle with me one of these days."

"Please tell me, Mr. Thorne. I mean to pay it: I must."

"Well, I'll ask him about it, then."

"_You_ know," with a look of reproach and pleading.

Percival could not deceive her, she looked so sorrowfully resolute. He
met the glance of her gray eyes. "Two pounds," he said; and was certain
that she was relieved at the answer.

"Bertie wasn't sure it wasn't two pounds ten."

"On my honor, no. He asked me