say he was a hard man."

"That's just what he is--hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if they
were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one
year's end to another."

"Suppose I guess again? He's not particularly free-handed with his
money--is he?"

"He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never
gave away a halfpenny in his life."

Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation.
"And there's that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes
her! Damn it, I agree with the Socialists; it's a virtue to make that
sort of man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought
to help--we might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a
little money. I've seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience
tells me there's something about that debt of Farnaby's which he doesn't
want to have known. Why shouldn't we screw a few five-pound notes for
ourselves out of the rich miser's fears?"

Phoebe was cautious. "It's against the law--ain't it?" she said.

"Trust me to keep clear of the law," Jervy answered. "I won't stir in
the matter till I know for certain that he daren't take the police into
his confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of
that. You have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby's weak
side. Would it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his wife?"

Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. "Don't talk to me
about his wife!" she broke out fiercely; "I've got a day of reckoning to
come with that lady--" She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was
watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning
was quick enough to conceal.

"I wouldn't intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!" he
said, in his most persuasive tones. "But, if you want advice, you know
that I am heart and soul at your service."

Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the
fire.

"Never mind now," she said; "I don't think it's a matter for a man to
advise about--it's between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with
her husband; I don't care; he's a brute, and I hate him. But there's one
thing I insist on--I won't have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed; mind
that! She's a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to me
yesterday, and judge for yourself."

Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took