y," he said, in broken tones. "You are so good to me. Take
the other note, my dear--I'll manage without it--take the other note."

The son threw open the door with a flourish; and magnanimously turned
his back on the father's offered pocket-book. "Hang it, old gentleman,
I'm not quite so mercenary as _that_!" he said, with an appearance of
the deepest feeling. "Put up your pocket-book, and let's be off." "If I
took my respected parent's last five-pound note," he thought to himself,
as he led the way downstairs, "how do I know he mightn't cry halves
when he sees the color of Mr. Armadale's money?" "Come along, dad!"
he resumed. "We'll take a cab and catch the happy bridegroom before he
starts for the church!"

They hailed a cab in the street, and started for the hotel which had
been the residence of Midwinter and Allan during their stay in London.
The instant the door of the vehicle had closed, Mr. Bashwood returned to
the subject of Miss Gwilt.

"Tell me the rest," he said, taking his son's hand, and patting it
tenderly. "Let's go on talking about her all the way to the hotel. Help
me through the time, Jemmy--help me through the time."

Bashwood the younger was in high spirits at the prospect of seeing the
color of Mr. Armadale's money. He trifled with his father's anxiety to
the very last.

"Let's see if you remember what I've told you already," he began.
"There's a character in the story that's dropped out of it without being
accounted for. Come! can you tell me who it is?"

He had reckoned on finding his father unable to answer the question. But
Mr. Bashwood's memory, for anything that related to Miss Gwilt, was as
clear and ready as his son's. "The foreign scoundrel who tempted her,
and let her screen him at the risk of her own life," he said, without
an instant's hesitation. "Don't speak of him, Jemmy--don't speak of him
again!"

"I _must_ speak of him," retorted the other. "You want to know what
became of Miss Gwilt when she got out of prison, don't you? Very
good--I'm in a position to tell you. She became Mrs. Manuel. It's no use
staring at me, old gentleman. I know it officially. At the latter part
of last year, a foreign lady came to our place, with evidence to prove
that she had been lawfully married to Captain Manuel, at a former period
of his career, when he had visited England for the first time. She had
only lately discovered that he had been in this country again; and she
had reason to believe tha