. She did
not longer affect to disbelieve the tidings, but said that no man,
let him do what he might, could be too far gone for repentance and
forgiveness. She would wait. She had talked of waiting two years. She
would be content to wait ten. What though he had cheated at cards!
Had she not once told her mother that should it turn out that he had
been a murderer, then she would become a murderer's wife? She did not
know that cheating at cards was worse than betting at horse-races. It
was all bad,--very bad. It was the kind of life into which men were
led by the fault of those who should have taught them better. No;
she would not marry him without her father's leave: but she would
never own that her engagement was broken, let them affix what most
opprobrious name to him they might choose. To her card-sharpers
seemed to be no worse than gamblers. She was quite sure that Christ
had come to save men who cheat at cards as well as others.

As Sir Harry and his cousin entered the London station late at
night,--it was past midnight,--Sir Harry bade his companion meet him
the next morning at Mr. Boltby's chambers at eleven. Cousin George
had had ample time for meditation, and had considered that it might
be best for him to "cut up a little rough."

"Mr. Boltby is my enemy," he said, "and I don't know what I am to get
by going there."

"If you don't, sir, I'll not pay one shilling for you."

"I have your promise, Sir Harry."

"If you are not there at the time I fix, I will pay nothing, and the
name may go to the dogs."

Then they both went to the station hotel,--not together, but the
younger following the elder's feet,--and slept for the last time in
their lives under one roof.

Cousin George did not show himself at Mr. Boltby's, being still in
his bed at the station hotel at the time named; but at three o'clock
he was with Mrs. Morton.

For the present we will go back to Sir Harry. He was at the lawyer's
chambers at the time named, and Mr. Boltby smiled when told of the
summons which had been given to Cousin George. By this time Sir Harry
had acknowledged his gratitude to Mr. Boltby over and over again, and
Mr. Boltby perhaps, having no daughter, thought that the evil had
been cured. He was almost inclined to be jocular, and did laugh at
Sir Harry in a mild way when told of the threat.

"We must pay his debts, Sir Harry, I think."

"I don't see it at all. I would rather face everything. And I told
him that I would