"Who, sir?" asked Charles, struck with the name.
"Mr. George Atkinson. Is he still with Mr. Preen?"
"Some gentleman is with him, sir. He is sitting over the fire.
"The same, no doubt. He is a great invalid just now."
Charles felt his face flush all over. So, it was the owner of Eagles' Nest before whom he had spoken. What a singular coincidence! The only time that a word had escaped his lips in regard to their fallen fortunes, he must be present and hear it! And Charley felt inclined to wish he had lost his tongue first. All the world might have been welcome to hear it, rather than George Atkinson.
The way home was generally long and weary, but this evening Charles found it light enough: he seemed to tread upon air. His thoughts were filled with Alice, and with the hope he was carrying to her. Never for a moment did he doubt she would be successful. He already saw her in imagination installed at Mrs. Preen's.
Edina went to Bayswater with Alice in the morning. A handsome house, well appointed. Mrs. Preen, interested in what she had heard from her husband, received them graciously. She liked them at first sight. Though very plain in dress, she saw that they were gentlewomen.
"It cannot be that I am speaking to Mrs. Raynor?" she cried, puzzled at Edina's youthful look.
Edina set her right: she was Miss Raynor. "The result of possessing no cards," thought Edina. "I never had more than fifty printed in my life, and most of those got discoloured with years. Mrs. Raynor is not strong enough to walk as far as this," she said aloud.
"But surely you did not walk?" cried Mrs. Preen.