"I wish you success, Blase;" said Frank heartily. "You can make a better thing of the business than old Float makes, if you will."
"I mean to," answered Blase.
"I will take this opportunity of saying just a word to you, Blase," again spoke up Rosaline, smoothing down the crape of her gown with one hand, in what looked like nervousness. "I have informed Mr. Raynor of the conversation I had with you the night my mother died, and that you are aware of the confession he and Mr. Pine alike hold."
Frank turned quickly to Blase. "You perceive now that you have been lying under a mistake from the first, with regard to me."
"I do," said Blase. "I am never ashamed to confess myself in the wrong, once I am convinced of it. But I should never have brought it against you, Mr. Frank Raynor; never; and that, I fancy, is what you have been fearing. In future, the less said about that past night the better. Better for all of us to try and forget it."
Frank nodded an emphatic acquiescence, and took up his hat to depart. Yes, indeed, better forget it. He should have to allude to it once again, for he meant to tell the full truth to Edina; and then he would put it from his mind.
He went home, wondering whether any urgent calls had been made upon him during this morning's absence; and was standing behind the counter, questioning Sam, when a sunburnt little gentleman walked in. Frank gazed at him in amazement: for it was Mr. Max Brown.
"How are you, Raynor?" cried the traveller, grasping Frank's hand cordially.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Frank. "Have you dropped from the moon?"
"I dropped last from the Southampton train. Got into port last night."