u to accept a present if
you could."

This sharpened the young gentleman's wits; he went in and groped here and
there till he found the address, and gave it her: No. 3, Fairfield
Cottages, Primrose Lane, Pimlico. She gave him a sovereign, to his
infinite surprise and delight, and told the cabman to drive to the hotel.

The next moment the man who had followed her was chatting familiarly with
the subordinate, and helping him to put up the shutters.

"I say, Dick," said the youngster, "Penfolds is up in the market; a
duchess was here just now, and gave me a soy, to tell her where he lived.
Wait a moment till I spit on it for luck."

The agent, however, did not wait to witness that interesting ceremony. He
went back to his hansom round the corner, and drove at once to Arthur
Wardlaw's house with the information.

Helen noted down Michael Penfold's address in her diary, and would have
gone to him that evening, but she was to dine _tete-a-tete_ with her
father.

Next day she went down to 3 Fairfield Cottages at half past four. On the
way her heart palpitated, for this was a very important interview. Here
at least she might hope to find some clew, by following out which she
would sooner or later establish Robert's innocence. But then came a
fearful thought: "Why had not his father done this already, if it was
possible to do it? His father must love him. His father must have heard
his own story, and tested it in every way. Yet his father remained the
servant of a firm, the senior partner of which had told her to her face
Robert was guilty."

It was a strange and terrible enigma. Yet she clung to the belief that
some new light would come to her from Michael Penfold. Then came bashful
fears. "How should she account to Mr. Penfold for the interest she took
in his own son, she who was affianced to Mr. Penfold's employer." She
arrived at 3 Fairfield Cottages with her cheeks burning, and repeating to
herself: "Now is the time to be supple as a woman but obstinate as a
man."

She sent the cabman in to inquire for Mr. Penfold; a sharp girl of about
thirteen came out to her, and told her Mr. Penfold was not at home.

"Can you tell me when he will be at home?"

"No, miss. He have gone to Scotland. A telegraphum came from Wardlaws'
last night, as he was to go to Scotland first thing this morning; and he
went at six o'clock."

"Oh, dear! How unfortunate!"

"Who shall I say called, miss?"

"Thank you, I will write. What ti