Notwithstanding he spoke confidently, the Squire had his misgivings. He had heard vague rumours from his brother magistrates, when he met them as chairman of the county bench and of the quarter sessions, that all was not well with Warren Courtly. He paid very little attention to the statements, treating them as so much idle gossip, but they came home to him forcibly now. He had heard that Warren Courtly had been going the pace on the racecourse and gambling heavily, but he thought Warren quite capable of looking after himself. They passed a somewhat quiet afternoon and evening, for the announcement disturbed them both, and Irene was anxious for the next morning to come, in the hope it might bring her some explanation from her husband.
It was quite true that Warren Courtly had sold the Holme Farm for ten thousand pounds, and the bulk of the money received from it went to pay his debts. He was in no very enviable frame of mind when he stepped into the Windsor train at Waterloo on his way to Feltham to see Janet. He was heartily sick and tired of her, and of the deception he had to practise in connection with her. Moreover, Janet was becoming troublesome, and, what was still worse, homesick. She was constantly imploring him to allow her to return to her father, promising to keep his secret and never to breathe a word about their intimacy. Warren Courtly would not hear of it. He knew of Eli Todd's great affection and devotedness to Ulick, and felt certain he would extract the truth from Janet if she lived with him again. He had wronged Irene, and deceived her, but he meant to shield her from the consequences of his folly at any cost. She must never know that he had been cowardly enough to allow Ulick to lie under the ban of a false accusation.
He left the train at Feltham, and walked to Mrs. Hoffman's.
Janet shook hands with him as an ordinary acquaintance; there was no love between them now, whatever there had been a couple of years ago. The more she saw of him and learned his nature, the more she despised him.
"You are looking well," he said, "the world is treating you better than me."
"Is it?" she answered, carelessly. "I am very unhappy, I want to go home again. I cannot rest until Mr. Ulick's name is cleared. It is a shame he should suffer for your fault."
"My fault and yours," he said, angrily. "You always lay all the blame at my door."
"And that is where it ought to be. I was a fool ever to trust you."
"I have done all I can for you, more than I can afford."
She laughed as she replied—