"I will say no more," I answered. "I hope I may be quite wrong. Only I should expect nothing of him."
When she reached Mr. Baddeley's her husband was gone. Having driven to his counting-house, and been shown into his private room, she found him there with his head between his hands. The great man had declined doing any thing for him, and had even rebuked him for his imprudence, without wasting a thought on the fact that every penny he himself possessed was the result of the boldest speculation on the part of his father. A very few days only would elapse before the falling due of certain bills must at once disclose the state of his affairs.
As soon as she had left me, Percivale not being at home, I put on my bonnet, and went to find Marion. I must tell her every thing that caused me either joy or sorrow; and besides, she had all the right that love could give to know of Judy's distress. I knew all her engagements, and therefore where to find her; and sent in my card, with the pencilled intimation that I would wait the close of her lesson. In a few minutes she came out and got into the cab. At once I told her my sad news.
"Could you take me to Cambridge Square to my next engagement?" she said.
I was considerably surprised at the cool way in which she received the communication, but of course I gave the necessary directions.
"Is there any thing to be done?" she asked, after a pause.
"I know of nothing," I answered.
Again she sat silent for a few minutes.
"One can't move without knowing all the circumstances and particulars," she said at length. "And how to get at them? He wouldn't make a confidante of me," she said, smiling sadly.
"Ah! you little think what vast sums are concerned in such a failure as his!" I remarked, astounded that one with her knowledge of the world should talk as she did.