"I will keep the list of numbers, my dear," he said. "If I were to give it to you, you would most likely lose it."
He folded the sheet of paper and put it in a drawer of his desk.
"Twenty years hence, Aurora," he said, "should I live so long, I should be able to produce this paper, if it were wanted."
"Which it never will be, you dear methodical papa," answered Aurora. "My troubles are ended now. Yes," she added, in a graver tone, "I pray God that my troubles may be ended now."
She encircled her arms about her father's neck, and kissed him tenderly.
"I must leave you, dearest, to-day," she said; "you must not ask me why,—you must ask me nothing! You must only love and trust me,—as my poor John trusts me,—faithfully, hopefully, through everything."
[CHAPTER VII.]
CAPTAIN PRODDER.
While the Doncaster express was carrying Mr. and Mrs. Mellish northwards, another express journeyed from Liverpool to London with its load of passengers.