"I will say that for the guv'nor—he has got large ideas," said Aubrey, with a solemn nod. "I wish he'd taken me into his confidence as to the locality—but still I'm not blaming him for that. Can't say I care much for the country as country—but I dare say I shall get used to it. Rummy thing, though, that you should have kept the game going so well that you haven't even added to your wardrobe, or changed your habits at all. He's a sly 'un, the guv'nor," added the young gentleman, with a wink at Bessie.

"I intended that it should all be a surprise; moreover, I intended to assert myself, and to take for the first time my true position in the family," said Mr. Meggison. "In this matter you will have to take your time from me; when I say 'move,' we will move. Now, as I am perhaps a little excited, I will just stretch my legs in the open air, and perhaps look in at my club for a moment or two."

By that time the man had fully persuaded himself that all he said was true—had fully made up his mind, in fact, that the great game on which he was embarked could be played out to the end by sheer bluff and cunning. Someone else was to pay the piper, but Mr. Daniel Meggison had quite made up his mind that he would call the tune. And so elated was he that he even unbent so far as to desire Aubrey to join him in that stroll to the Arcadia Arms; so that father and son went off arm in arm, with quite a new amiability sitting a little awkwardly upon them.

Meanwhile there was, of course, one person to whom it was absolutely necessary that the great news should be told—one person who would be glad for her sake, and yet, she hoped, a little sorry on his own account. She went out into that garden of her dreams, feeling a little strange now that the dreams were coming true—vaguely troubled in fact that there should be no more necessity for pretence. She was like a child that is promised with certainty a new and gorgeous toy, and yet looks back, in the very act of going to it, with regret at the broken, battered things left behind.

Not that the place seemed poor or common; it could never be that, because of the memories it held. Nor did it look shabby even to-night, with the grander prospect opening out in Bessie's imagination; she would be in a sense regretful at the thought of leaving it, because so much had happened there—every poor sordid stick and stone of it meant so much more to her than to anyone else. She passed through the place now smilingly, looking and listening for her friend.

And the friend was there; in the strangest fashion he looked over the wall directly she emerged from the house. Of course he knew nothing of the great and glorious news; that was for her to tell him. Pride was in that thought, because all in a moment she was lifted nearer to him by reason of her new riches. She was greater even than this wonderful young man who could spend money recklessly on theatres and cabs. She went straight to him now, and told him without parley all the great news. He, expecting it, set himself to appear as surprised as she would expect to find him.

"Mr. Byfield—there's something I want to tell you," she began. "You've been my best friend—almost my only friend; so you must know before anyone else. It's great good news."

"I'm very glad," he assured her, leaning on the wall, and looking down at her. "What has happened? Another and a splendid lodger?"

She laughed and shook her head—laughed more light-heartedly than he had ever known her. "It's nothing to do with lodgers; there are never going to be any lodgers any more," she said; and he thought how even the tired voice had changed in a little time. "Father has suddenly grown very rich!"

He stared at her for a moment in utter bewilderment; he could not understand. He was on the very point of correcting her, and of telling her that the strange fortune which had come to her father was a matter that would provide leisure for a period of a few weeks only, when he reflected that he must know nothing about it. Doubtless she had misunderstood old Meggison; that would be a matter to be set right afterwards.