"You never spoke a grain of sense in your life, Gerard," she exclaimed peevishly. "What do you mean?"
"Sir Francis Netherleigh has taken me into his house in Leadenhall Street."
"Sir Francis Netherleigh!" she echoed, in surprise. "What, with that—that——"
"That crime hanging over me. Speak up, Frances."
"No; I was going to say that doubt," returned the outspoken girl. "I don't believe you were guilty: you know that, Gerard."
"I have been there some little time now, Frances; and I came up tonight from the City to bring a note to him from Mr. Howard——"
"Rather late, is it not, to be in the City?"
"It is foreign post night, and we are very busy. A telegram came, of some importance, I believe, and Mr. Howard has enclosed it to Sir Francis."
"But you owned to a mountain of debt in England, Gerard; you were afraid of arrest."
"I have managed a portion of that, thanks to Sir Francis, and the rest they are going to let me square up by instalments."