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The word came from Faith in a heart-broken cry, and once more Mr. Shawyer rushed gallantly into the breach. "It is very unjust to my client to take this premature view," he said reprovingly. "Naturally, I know nothing of the circumstances of which you are now speaking, and we can only wait until Mr. Forrester comes home before they are proved or disproved.
Or or did I dream it?" "It is quite true," Mr. Shawyer said. Her brown eyes searched his face. "She died saving your husband's life, Mrs. Forrester. He was waylaid by a gang of roughs, and...." Faith made a little silencing gesture. The blood had rushed back to her white face; she did not want to hear any more. Peg had saved the Beggar Man's life. It gave her a stab of bitterest jealousy.
Shawyer spread his hands. "My dear young lady, how can I advise you beyond saying that the only thing to do is to wait until Nicholas Forrester comes home. He is your husband and rightful guardian, and if you love him you know what course to adopt. Even if if what your mother says is a fact, he has not injured you knowingly, at all events. You say he has been all that is kind and good.
Smith rolled the word 'rat-poison' luxuriously round his tongue. Shawyer, who was something of an expert on the range, babbled of air-guns. At tea on the following evening the first really serious engagement of the campaign took place. The cat strolled into the tea-room in the patronizing way characteristic of his kind, but was heavily shelled with lump-sugar, and beat a rapid retreat.
"She's the right one, thank heaven," the Beggar Man thought, as he saw the way in which she took them both to her heart, and he heaved a deep sigh of relief, for he had been greatly worried with so much responsibility all at once. But Mrs. Shawyer took it from him willingly; she shopped for the twins, and found them a school in the country within driving distance of her own home.
"Scammel!" she said hoarsely. "Ralph Scammel! Is that the man my daughter has married?" "It is merely an assumed name," Mr. Shawyer said quickly. "For business purposes." Mrs. Ledley was breathing fast. It was with difficulty that she at length found her voice. "Ralph Scammel is the man who ruined my husband," she said.
"Yes, for the present. I've taken a house at Hampstead, and we shall move there as soon as it's ready in a week or two, I hope." He paced the length of the office and back again. "If it didn't look so much like running away, I'd make a settlement on my wife and clear off abroad," he said, shortly. "I shouldn't do that," said Mr. Shawyer. "She's young.
"The longer they had been together the harder the parting would have seemed. However, it's done, and I'm not going to undo it. Have you found out anything yet about this story of her father?" Mr. Shawyer looked away from his client's anxious eyes as he answered. "I have. Unfortunately, it's true!
Shawyer cleared his throat and drew his chair closer to the table. "I shall be only too pleased to answer those questions," he said. "As far as I know, Mr. Forrester is quite without relatives! His mother died when he was a small boy, and for some years he lived in Australia with his father.
"It will break their hearts, poor darlings!" "Nonsense!" he answered calmly. "Before they get into the next street they'll be perfectly happy. Mrs. Shawyer has a box of chocolates for them, and I never knew chocolates fail to dry their tears yet." He smoothed his hair, which had got rather ruffled by the twins' struggles to escape him. "Thank goodness that's over," he said with a short laugh.
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