th your crying--cry
when you like. It will be lucky for Cossey if that old father of his
dies just now, because he wants money."

"What does he want money for?"

"Because he has undertaken to pay off the mortgages on the Castle
estates."

"Why has he done that, as an investment?"

"No, it is a rotten investment. I believe that he has done it because
he is in love with Miss de la Molle, and is naturally anxious to
ingratiate himself with her. Don't you know that? I thought perhaps
that was what you had been crying about?"

"It is not true," she answered, her lips quivering with pain.

Mr. Quest laughed gently. "I think you must have lost your power of
observation, which used to be sufficiently keen. However, of course it
does not matter to you. It will in many ways be a most suitable
marriage, and I am sure they will make a very handsome couple."

She made no answer, and turned her back to hide the workings of her
face. For a few moments her husband stood looking at her, a gentle
smile playing on his refined features. Then remarking that he must go
round to the office, but would be back in time for tea, he went,
reflecting with satisfaction that he had given his wife something to
think about which would scarcely be to her taste.

As for Belle Quest, she waited till the door had closed, and then
turned round towards it and spoke aloud, as though she were addressing
her vanished husband.

"I hate you," she said, with bitter emphasis. "I hate you. You have
ruined my life, and now you torment me as though I were a lost soul.
Oh, I wish I were dead! I wish I were dead!"

On reaching his office, Mr. Quest found two letters for him, one of
which had just arrived by the afternoon post. The first was addressed
in the Squire's handwriting and signed with his big seal, and the
other bore a superscription, the sight of which made him turn
momentarily faint. Taking up this last with a visible effort, he
opened it.

It was from the "Tiger," alias Edith, and its coarse contents need not
be written here. Put shortly they came to this. She was being summoned
for debt. She wanted more money and would have it. If five hundred
pounds were not forthcoming and that shortly--within a week, indeed--
she threatened with no uncertain voice to journey down to Boisingham
and put him to an open shame.

"Great heavens!" he said, "this woman will destroy me. What a devil!
And she'd be as good as her word unless I found her the money. I