yet she was bound, bound
by a sense of honour and a sense too of money received, to stay at the
beck and call of a man she detested, and if at any time it pleased him
to throw down the handkerchief, to be there to pick it up and hold it
to her breast. It was bad enough to have had this hanging over her
head when she was herself more or less in a passive condition, and
therefore to a certain extent reckless as to her future; but now that
her heart was alight with the holy flame of a good woman's love, now
that her whole nature rebelled and cried out aloud against the
sacrilege involved, it was both revolting and terrible.

And yet so far as she could see there was no great probability of
escape. A shrewd and observant woman, she could gauge Mr. Cossey's
condition of mind towards herself with more or less accuracy. Also she
did not think it in the least likely that having spent thirty thousand
pounds to advance his object, he would be content to let his advantage
drop. Such a course would be repellent to his trading instincts. She
knew in her heart that the hour was not far off when he would claim
his own, and that unless some accident occurred to prevent it, it was
practically certain that she would be called upon to fulfil her
pledge, and whilst loving another man to become the wife of Edward
Cossey.

CHAPTER XX

"GOOD-BYE TO YOU, EDWARD"

It was on the day following the one upon which Harold proposed to Ida,
that Edward Cossey returned to Boisingham. His father had so far
recovered from his attack as to be at last prevailed upon to allow his
departure, being chiefly moved thereto by the supposition that Cossey
and Son's branch establishments were suffering from his son's absence.

"Well," he said, in his high, piercing voice, "business is business,
and must be attended to, so perhaps you had better go. They talk about
the fleeting character of things, but there is one thing that never
changes, and that is money. Money is immortal; men may come and men
may go, but money goes on for ever. Hee! hee! money is the honey-pot,
and men are the flies; and some get their fill and some stick their
wings, but the honey is always there, so never mind the flies. No,
never mind me either; you go and look after the honey, Edward. Money--
honey, honey--money, they rhyme, don't they? And look here, by the
way, if you get a chance--and the world is full of chances to men who