At last the whole book lay in a mass of black and blue ashes at his feet. He stood in front of the pile for a few moments thinking. "Between that book and me there is great similarity. It was once truthful, then it recorded a lie, and now it is burnt and black. I was once honest; I fell; and now my position, my prospects, and my hopes are in ashes. There is no chance of escape."
It was after five o'clock. He rang the bell; as he did so, he heard the street-bell ring also.
"Aldridge coming back from his constitutional." Then, correcting himself, he thought: "Of course, Aldridge doesn't ring."
He unlocked the doors, and in a few minutes the servant knocked and entered.
"I want you to tidy up that grate; I've been burning some old letters," said Grey.
"Yes, sir; a letter for you, sir, just come."
"All right; leave it on my table."
"Beg pardon, sir, but it's from the Castle, and marked immediate."
The banker took it and glanced at the superscription as the servant withdrew.
"From Mrs. Grant," he muttered. "What can it be now?"