"A friend what came the day you telegraphed. He said 'e'd see her back safe and sound. I packed 'er clothes with my own hands, I did, she never touched a thing, and we drove them both behind Black Bess to the station, with Rover following at the wheel."
A low hiss breaks from Philip's lips.
"And this man," he asks fiercely, impatiently, biting his lips. "What was he like?"
"Oh! 'e was a beautiful gentleman, so well dressed and handsome, Mr., let me see, Mr. Quinton I think she called him."
Philip has heard enough, he turns away with a groan.
Mrs. Grebby watches the dark despair creep over his features in blank amazement.
"What does it mean?" she asks, detaining him with a trembling hand.
"It means," replies Philip in a choking voice, "that Eleanor has left me."
A cry escapes Mrs. Grebby, she buries her face in her apron, rocking herself to and fro, moaning pitifully.
"We, as always kep' ourselves respectable, and never knew what it was to blush for any of our stock, and she 'as lifted the family, and married a good, real gentleman like yourself, sir, to bring disgrace and ruin on 'er 'appy 'ome. Oh! my, oh! my, the poor misguided lass!"