felt sick at the news he would
have to tell Sylvia. Pash saw the young man, and meeting his indignant
eyes darted back into his office like a rabbit into its burrow. The
widow sailed out in her calm, serene way, without a look at either Paul
or his companion. Yet the young man had an instinct that she saw them
both.

"That's the mother I expect," said Hay, putting his glass firmly into
his eye; "a handsome pair. Gad, Paul, that young woman--eh?"

"Perhaps you'd like to marry her," said Paul, bitterly.

Hay drew himself up stiffly. "I don't marry stray young women I see on
the street, however attractive," he said in his cold voice. "I don't
know either of these ladies."

"Pash will introduce you if you make it worth his while."

"Why the deuce should I," retorted Hay, staring.

"Well," said Beecot, impulsively telling the whole of the misfortune
that had befallen him, "that is the wife and that is the daughter of
Aaron Norman, _alias_ Krill. The daughter inherits five thousand a year,
so marry her and be happy."

"But your Dulcinea?" asked Grexon, dropping his eye-glass in amazement.

"She has me and poverty," said Paul, turning away. Nor could the quiet
call of Hay make him stop. But at the end of the street he looked back,
and saw Grexon entering the office of the lawyer. If Hay was the man
Hurd said he was, Paul guessed that he would inquire about the heiress
and marry her too, if her banking account was large and safe.

CHAPTER XII

THE NEW LIFE

For obvious reasons Beecot did not return to Gwynne Street. It was
difficult to swallow this bitter pill which Providence had administered.
In place of an assured future with Sylvia, he found himself confronted
with his former poverty, with no chance of marrying the girl, and with
the obligation of telling her that she had no right to any name. Paul
was by no means a coward, and his first impulse was to go at once and
inform Sylvia of her reverse of fortune. But it was already late, and he
thought it would be only kind to withhold the bad news till the morrow,
and thus avoid giving the disinherited girl a tearful and wakeful night.
Therefore, after walking the Embankment till late, Paul went to his
garret.

To the young man's credit it must be said that he cared very little for
the loss of the money, although he grieved on Sylvia's account. Had he
been able to earn a small income, he would have married the girl and
given her the protection of his name