"The truth is that there are some people in my house."
"Oh! it is let," said Margaret, in a tone of disappointment. "Then what are we to do?"
"We might take lodgings—they must not be far from here, and then we can see——" He turned on his heel and left her.
When she had rested, she started in a cab to look for lodgings—a weary quest—and all she saw near that part of London were so dingy and so dirty that she returned to the hotel in despair. Her husband came in looking so white and so utterly broken down that she could not imagine what had happened; but he would tell her nothing.
The landlady to whom Margaret spoke suggested some rooms in the country close to a station.
"As you think so much of cleanliness and fresh air, you had better go there, ma'm."
"It is only for a little while—my husband let his place and cannot turn out his tenants before their time is up," said Margaret, happily unconscious what a falsehood this was.
She liked the rooms; and then, when they paid their bill and were leaving, her husband made her understand a little how things were.
Throwing a handful of silver on the table he exclaimed, angrily,
"There! that is every penny I have in the world."