"What has she told you? You look half dead, May."
"Nothing tries me like having to listen to talk like that; but she told me—" and May repeated the substance of Mrs. Short's story.
"Well, I know nothing of the man myself, but this is certain," said Mr. Cloudesley in reply. "Mrs. Short may abandon her suspicion that he behaved dishonourably in any way; for if he had, he would not have been admitted here. I fancy he is very unhappy, poor old fellow; you must make friends with him, May."
"But, Gilbert, if he really turned his son out of doors and cursed him?"
"If that is true, he must be a miserable man, May."
"You are right. Yes, Gilbert, I'll go and see him again."
May Cloudesley went several times to visit Mr. Trulock before she found him at home; and her ineffectual knock at his door never failed to bring Mrs. Short to hers, urging her to come in and "have a chat." Sometimes May escaped, but more often she was obliged to go in and listen unwillingly to much gossip, principally about poor old Ralph, but many of the other neighbours were also discussed. Still Ralph was plainly a mystery to her, and (of course in the most good-natured spirit) Mrs. Short talked incessantly about him. At last Mrs. Cloudesley determined to go quite early some day, and try if she could catch Trulock; before he was off on his wanderings. It was not quite ten o'clock when she raised her hand to knock at his door, and before she had reached the knocker the door opened, and Ralph, in a worn great-coat and shabby muffler, stood before her. He looked even more depressed than when she had seen him last.
"Good morning, Mr. Trulock. I am a very early visitor, but later in the day you are never at home, and I wanted so much to see you."
"You are very good, madam. I don't know why any one should trouble themselves about such as I am now. Will you walk in, madam?—though I fear you will find it cold."
"Oh, I am very well wrapped up; I don't mind the cold."