"Lady Alice Redcliffe called me by my true name, and insisted it was mine. I could not deny it—I admitted the truth. Mademoiselle Marlowe was present also, and heard what passed. In little more than an hour after this scene I left Marlowe Manor. I did not see Sir Jekyl, and simply addressed a note to him saying that I was called away unexpectedly. I did not repeat to him the disclosure made to Lady Alice. I left that to the discretion of those who had heard it."
"Their discretion—very good—and now, Monsieur Guy Deverell, I have done with you. I shan't leave you as I took you up, absolutely penniless. I shall so place you as to enable you with diligence to earn your bread without degradation—that is all. You will be so good as to repair forthwith to London and await me at our quarters in St. James's Street. I shall send you, by next post, a cheque to meet expenses in town—no, pray don't thank me; you might have thanked me by your obedience. I shan't do much more to merit thanks. Your train starts from hence, I think, in half an hour."
Varbarriere nodded angrily, and moved his hand towards the door.
"Farewell, sir," said Guy, bowing low, but proudly.
"One word more," said Varbarriere, recollecting suddenly; "you have not arranged a correspondence with any person? answer me on your honour."
"No, sir, on my honour."
"Go, then. Adieu!" and Varbarriere turned from him brusquely, and so they parted.
"Am I to understand, sir," inquired the attorney, "that what has just occurred modifies our instructions to proceed in those cases?"
"Not at all, sir," answered Varbarriere, firmly.
"You see the civil proceedings must all be in the name of the young gentleman—a party who is of age—and you see what I mean."