e. Good-night."

"Ah it's a pity; won't you take _anything_?" asked Mrs. Rooth. "When I
heard your voice so high I was scared and hung back." But before he
could reply she added: "Are you really thinking of the stage?"

"It comes to the same thing."

"Do you mean you've proposed?"

"Oh unmistakably."

"And what does she say?"

"Why you heard: she says I'm an ass."

"Ah the little wretch!" laughed Mrs. Rooth. "Leave her to me. I'll help
you. But you are mad. Give up nothing--least of all your advantages."

"I won't give up your daughter," said Peter, reflecting that if this was
cheap it was at any rate good enough for Mrs. Rooth. He mended it a
little indeed by adding darkly: "But you can't make her take me."

"I can prevent her taking any one else."

"Oh _can_ you?" Peter cried with more scepticism than ceremony.

"You'll see--you'll see." He passed into the garden, but, after she had
blown out the candles and drawn the window to, Mrs. Rooth went with him.
"All you've got to do is to be yourself--to be true to your fine
position," she explained as they proceeded. "Trust me with the
rest--trust me and be quiet."

"How can one be quiet after this magnificent evening?"

"Yes, but it's just that!" panted the eager old woman. "It has launched
her so on this sea of dangers that to make up for the loss of the old
security (don't you know?) we must take a still firmer hold."

"Aye, of what?" Peter asked as Mrs. Rooth's comfort became vague while
she stopped with him at the garden door.

"Ah you know: of the _real_ life, of the true anchor!" Her hansom was
waiting for her and she added: "I kept it, you see; but a little
extravagance on the night one's fortune has come!--"

Peter stared. Yes, there were people whose fortune had come; but he
managed to stammer: "Are you following her again?"

"For you--for you!" And she clambered into the vehicle. From the seat,
enticingly, she offered him the place beside her. "Won't you come too? I
know he invited you." Peter declined with a quick gesture and as he
turned away he heard her call after him, to cheer him on his lonely
walk: "I shall keep this up; I shall never lose sight of her!"

BOOK EIGHTH

XLVII

When Mrs. Dallow returned to London just before London broke up the fact
was immediately known in Calcutta Gardens and was promptly communicated
to Nick Dormer by his sister Bridget. He had learnt it in no other
way--he had had no correspondence w