ere too. And my brother said. 'Don't take mother away, father;'
and then father said to mother, 'Stay with George.' At that moment
something strange must have happened--all my mother's great love seemed
suddenly directed into a new channel. Her love for George since that
moment has been the passion of her life. He was not strong-minded."

"No, indeed," interrupted Mr. Gering.

"No; and he yielded to temptation and got into trouble, and--and lost
money. But all the time my mother has been imagining that he is the best
and steadiest fellow in London. She lives in a sort of golden dream
about him. If she learns the truth she will certainly die, and George
will be lost. He will then, as he himself expresses it, 'go under'
forever. He won't be able to stand the thought that through his sin and
weakness he has killed his mother."

"I should hope not," interrupted Mr. Gering.

"Therefore I want you to forgive him--it is your duty."

"My duty, child! What right have you to come and talk to me about my
duty?"

"Every right, if I can only make you perform it."

"You are either impertinent or very brave, young lady. I was never
spoken to in this strain before."

"Well, you see, it is a matter of life and death," said Effie. "I can't
mince words when life and death hang in the balance."

"You're a queer girl--a queer girl; I don't know what to make of you.
'Pon my word, I'm sorry for that mother of yours--poor soul, poor soul!
It's a pity she didn't bring up her son as conscientiously as she did
her daughter. Now, you wouldn't have taken fifty pounds out of my till?"

"No," said Effie.

"I wish you were a boy--I'd give you that lad's place within an hour."

"Thank you, but I don't think I should care to have it. Will you come
now and do your duty?"

"Come! Where am I to come?"

"To see George."

"The rascal! Where is he?"

"I'll take you to him."

"Do you know that you are bullying me in the most shameful way, Miss
Staunton?"

"I know that you have a very kind heart," answered Effie.

At this moment the room door was opened, and Power came in again.

"Mr. Fortescue has called, sir."

"Tell Mr. Fortescue that I can't see him."

"And Ford has sent round about that shipping order. When can you give
him his answer?"

"Some time this afternoon."

"But they want it this morning."

"Well, they can't have it; I'm going out for a bit. Come along, Miss
Staunton; we can't let the grass grow under our feet."