In his
desperation, for Miss Rowly's remorseless glasses were full on him, he
said:

'I thought I was justified in making the promise after what you said
about the pleasure it would be to help me. You remember, that day on the
hilltop?' If he had wished to disconcert her he was mistaken; she had already
thought over and over again of every form of embarrassment her unhappy
action might bring on her at his hands. She now said sweetly and calmly,
so sweetly and so calmly that he, with knowledge of her secret, was
alarmed:

'But that was not a promise to pay. If you will remember it was only an
offer, which is a very different thing. You did not accept it then!' She
was herself somewhat desperate, or she would not have sailed so close to
the wind. 'Ah, but I accepted later!' he said quickly, feeling in his satisfaction
in an epigrammatic answer a certain measure of victory. He felt his
mistake when she went on calmly:

'Offers like that are not repeated. They are but phantoms, after all. They come at their own choice, when they do come; and they stay but the
measure of a breath or two. You cannot summon them!' Leonard fell into
the current of the metaphor and answered:

'I don't know that even that is impossible. There are spells which call,
and recall, even phantoms!' 'Indeed!' Stephen was anxious to find his purpose. Leonard felt that he was getting on, that he was again acquiring the
upper hand; so he pushed on the metaphor, more and more satisfied with
himself:

'And it is wonderful how simple some spells, and these the most powerful,
can be. A remembered phrase, the recollection of a pleasant meeting, the
smell of a forgotten flower, or the sight of a forgotten letter; any or
all of these can, through memory, bring back the past. And it is often
in the past that the secret of the future lies!' Miss Rowly felt that something was going on before her which she could
not understand. Anything of this man's saying which she could not fathom
must be at least dangerous; so she determined to spoil his purpose,
whatever it might be. 'Dear me! That is charmingly poetic! Past and future; memory and the
smell of flowers; meetings and letters! It is quite philosophy. Do
explain it all, Mr. Everard!' Leonard was not prepared to go on under
the circumstances. His own mention of 'letter,' although he had
deliberately used it with the intention of frightening Stephen, had
frightened himself. It reminded him that he had not brought, had not
got, the letter; and that as yet he was not certain of getting the money. Stephen also had noted the word, and determined not to pass the matter
by. She said gaily:

'If a letter is a spell, I think you have a spell of mine, which is a
spell of my own weaving. You were to show me the letter in which I asked
you to come to see me. It was in that, I think you said, that I
mentioned your debts; but I don't remember doing so. Show it to me!' 'I have not got it with me!' This was said with mulish sullenness. 'Why not?' 'I forgot.' 'That is a pity! It is always a pity to forget things in a business
transaction; as this is. I think, Auntie, we must wait till we have all
the documents, before we can complete this transaction!' Leonard was seriously alarmed. If the matter of the loan were not gone
on with at once the jeweller's bill could not be paid by Monday, and the
result would be another scene with his father. He turned to Stephen and
said as charmingly as he could, and he was all in earnest now:

'I'm awfully sorry! But these debts have been so worrying me that they
put lots of things out of my head. That bill to be paid on Monday, when
I haven't a feather to fly with, is enough to drive a fellow off his
chump. The moment I lay my hands on the letter I shall keep it with me
so that I can't forget it again. Won't you forgive me for this time?' 'Forgive!' she answered, with a laugh. 'Why it's not worth forgiveness! It is not worth a second thought! All right! Leonard, make your mind
easy; the bill will be paid on Monday!' Miss Rowly said quietly:

'I have to be in London on Monday afternoon; I can pay it for you.' This
was a shock to Leonard; he said impulsively:

'Oh, I say! Can't I . . . ' His words faded away as the old lady again
raised her lorgnon and gazed at him calmly. She went on:

'You know, my dear, it won't be even out of my way, as I have to call at
Mr. Malpas's office, and I can go there from the hotel in Regent Street.' This was all news to Stephen. She did not know that her aunt had
intended going to London; and indeed she did not know of any business
with Mr. Malpas, whose firm had been London solicitor to the Rowlys for
several generations. She had no doubt, however, as to the old lady's
intention. It was plain to her that she wanted to help. So she thanked
her sweetly. Leonard could say nothing. He seemed to be left completely
out of it. When Stephen rose, as a hint to him that it was time for him
to go, he said humbly, as he left:

'Would it be possible that I should have the receipt before Monday
evening? I want to show it to my father.' 'Certainly!' said the old lady, answering him. 'I shall be back by the
two o'clock train; and if you happen to be at the railway station at
Norcester when I arrive I can give it to you!' He went away relieved, but vindictive; determined in his own mind that
when he had received the money for the rest of the debts he would see
Stephen, when the old lady was not present, and have it out with her. CHAPTER XIX--A LETTER


On Monday evening after dinner Mr. Everard and his son sat for a while in
silence. They had not met since morning; and in the presence of the
servants conversation had been scrupulously polite. Now, though they
were both waiting to talk, neither liked to begin. The older man was
outwardly placid, when Leonard, a little flushed and a little nervous of
voice, began:

'Have you had any more bills?' He had expected none, and thus hoped to
begin by scoring against his father. It was something of a set-down when
the latter, taking some papers from his breast-pocket, handed them to
him, saying:

'Only these!' Leonard took them in silence and looked at them. All were
requests for payment of debts due by his son. In each case the full bill was enclosed. He was silent a while; but his
father spoke:

'It would almost seem as if all these people had made up their minds that
you were of no further use to them.' Then without pausing he said, but
in a sharper voice:

'Have you paid the jewellers? This is Monday!' Without speaking Leonard
took leisurely from his pocket folded paper. This he opened, and, after
deliberately smoothing out the folds, handed it to his father. Doubtless
something in his manner had already convinced the latter that the debt
was paid. He took the paper in as leisurely a way as it had been given,
adjusted his spectacles, and read it. Seeing that his son had scored
this time, he covered his chagrin with an appearance of paternal
satisfaction. 'Good!'