"Had she nothing left—the mother?"
"I asked her the question. She told me she had a small income, nothing like enough to keep her. I wonder how they have lived?" continued Sir Simon, after a pause.
"The son has been to a thorough good school," observed Dr. Brabazon. "Did Mr. Paradyne acknowledge his guilt?"
"He denied it utterly, so Loftus told me; made believe at first to think they were accusing him in joke."
A sudden light, something like hope, appeared in Dr. Brabazon's eyes as he raised them to Sir Simon.
"Is it possible that he could have been innocent?" he eagerly asked.
"No, it is not possible; there was no one else who could have had access to the shares and things," was the avowal. But Sir Simon looked grieved, and was grieved, to have to make it.
And so it was decided that George Paradyne should remain.
[CHAPTER IV.]
Sir Simon Orville's offered Reward.
In the comfortable apartment which was made the family sitting-room, where Miss Brabazon might usually be found by anybody who wanted her, sat a young lady on this same afternoon. A laughing, saucy, wilful girl of thirteen, with short petticoats, and wavy brown hair hanging down. It was Miss Rose Brabazon. Dr. Brabazon had married two wives and lost them both: he had several older children, all out in the world now, but this was the only young one, and spoilt accordingly. That is, all out in the world save his eldest daughter, whom you will see presently. Miss Rose was supposed to be at her studies. Sundry exercise-books were before her on the square table, covered with its handsome green cloth, in the middle of the room; in point of fact, she was inditing a private letter, and taking recreative trips to the window between whiles,—a large, pleasant window, looking out on the gymnasium-ground, with a view of the Hampstead and Highgate hills in the far distance. At least seventeen of the boys were madly in love with Miss Rose, and Miss Rose reciprocated the compliment to a large proportion of them.