ust have
money, for Mr. Edgar had got him into some trouble.'

'You heard this by listening at Mr. Eric's door, for Miss Gladys saw
you,' I observed, not willing to let this pass.

'What has that got to do with it?' she returned rudely. 'I am speaking
to the master, not you': but she grew a shade paler as I spoke. 'You
were up late that night, sir; I was waiting to speak to Miss Etta, and
encountered you in the passage. I went back to my own room for a little
while, and then I knocked at her door; but there was no answer. I could
see the room was dark, but I could hardly believe she was asleep: so I
went to the bed and called Miss Etta, but I very soon found she was not
there: her gown was on the couch and her dressing-gown missing from its
place.

'I had a notion that I might as well follow her, for somehow I guessed
that she had gone to the study; but I was certainly not prepared to see
Mr. Eric stooping over your desk. He had a letter in his hand, and had
just put down his chamber candlestick. All at once it flashed upon my
mind that Miss Etta had told me that you had received a large cheque that
night, and that you were going up to London the next day to cash it, and
she hoped Dryden would not call again before you went. She said it quite
casually, and I am sure then she had not thought of helping herself. Then
the thought must have come to her all of a sudden.

'I remembered the cheque, and for an instant I suspected Mr. Eric. But as
I was watching him I saw the curtain of one of the windows move, and I
had a glimpse of yellow embroidery that certainly belonged to Miss Etta's
dressing-gown. In a moment I grasped the truth: she had taken the cheque
to settle Dryden's bill. But I must make myself certain of the fact: so
I asked Mr. Eric, rather roughly, what he was doing, and he retorted by
bidding me mind my own business.

'He had laid his letter on the desk, but when he had gone I walked up
straight to the window, and nearly frightened Miss Etta into a fit by
asking her what she had done with the cheque. She was grovelling on her
knees before me in a moment, calling me her dear Leah and imploring me to
shield her. I was very fierce with her at first, and was for putting it
back again, until she told me, trembling all over, that she had endorsed
it. She had copied your writing, and only an expert could have told the
difference.

'"It is too late, Leah," she kept saying; "we cannot hide it from Giles
now, and