But Monckton was inflexible. He said, "It is about a matter that she can not communicate to you, nor can I. However, I am obliged to you for your information. She won't leave her stock-broker, eh? Well, then I know where to find her;" and he took up his hat to go.
"No, pray don't do that," said Mr. Middleton, earnestly. "Let me try her again. She has had time to sleep over it."
"Try her," said Monckton, sternly, "and if you are her friend, take her husband's side in this one thing; it's the last time I shall trouble her."
"I am her friend," said the lawyer. "And if you must know, I rather wish her to meet you and get it over. Will you come here again at five o'clock?"
"All right," said Monckton.
Monckton was struck with lawyer Middleton's manner, and went away puzzling over it.
"What's his little game, I wonder?" said he.
The lawyer went post-haste to his client's house. He found her in tears.
She handed him an open letter.
Braham was utterly ruined, and besides that had done something or other he did not care to name; he was off to America, leaving her what money she could find in the house and the furniture, which he advised her to sell at once before others claimed it; in short, the man was wild with fear, and at present thought but little of anybody but himself.
Then the lawyer set himself to comfort her as well as he could, and renewed his request that she would give Monckton a meeting.