's leave,
I will take your kindly counsel, and seek aid of Mr Marshall. I would
like to see them again."

His voice faltered as the last words were spoken.

"So will you do well," said the Countess, more kindly than before. "All
is not yet lost, Mr Louvaine. You have been foolish, but there is time
before you wherein you may be wise."

Aubrey bowed, took his leave, and went to his own room, where he filled
his pockets with a few immediate necessaries and what little money he
had. It was hard to bear, this going forth into the wilderness, not at
God's call, but as the consequence of his own folly--Egypt left behind,
and no Canaan in prospect. He must take leave of none save Lady
Oxford--must appear to none to be what he was--a homeless fugitive with
his life in his hand. As he came down-stairs, he was met in the hall by
the same page who had previously summoned him.

"My Lady would speak a word with you in her cabinet ere you walk forth."

Aubrey found Lady Oxford at her desk, busied with household accounts,
and a little pile of gold beside her. When she had reminded him that
she was not rich, she had spoken very truly. That deceased husband of
hers, as wanting in reason in his age as in his youth, having reduced
the great Vere estates to almost nothing, his second wife, the Countess
Elizabeth, and her young son Earl Henry, had to sustain the dignity of
the House upon a very insufficient number of gold pieces. Twenty months
had elapsed since the death of Earl Edward, and the excellent management
and strict economy of the widowed Countess had done something to
retrieve the ruined fortunes of the family, but much still remained to
do.

Lady Oxford glanced up at Aubrey as he entered.

"Mr Louvaine, I owe you your quarter's wages," she said; "at least, so
little time remains that it need not tarry, and 'tis to my conveniency
to reckon with you this afternoon." This was said in a voice that the
page could hear. Then, as Aubrey came up to her, with a significant
look, she laid another ten pounds in his hand, with a few words for his
private ear. "Let me hear of you in time to come as a good man. God go
with you! Farewell."

Ten minutes later, Aubrey closed the door of Oxford House for the last
time, and went out, truly not knowing whither he went. His primary
destination of course was Shoe Lane; but after that--whither?

Through back streets he made his way to Aldersgate, and passed through
it out of