Mrs. Stacy, thus reminded of her own needs, began to moan softly among her pillows, and called out to the walls and windows that she wished, if that pain was going to keep on so, that she never had been born. If it wasn’t that she had the very best husband that ever drew breath, she would just give up, and want to die; but for his sake she would try and worry through.

Stacy was far out of reach both of the moans and this conjugal tribute to his goodness, for he had hastened to join that bank messenger who, somehow, took the form of his old sweetheart, and shaded him now and then with a coquettish bend of her parasol.

“Found your cane,” observed Maggie, glancing at the ponderous gold-headed affair in the hand of her old lover.

“Oh, yes; no trouble; had just stood it up in a corner of the parlor.”

Maggie laughed a little under the cover of her parasol, but kept a discreet silence about the locked door until she was snugly seated in the park, with Stacy crowded close to her side.

“Ah,” he said, heaving a sigh that lifted the white vest like a snow-bank, “this is something like happiness! If you could only know what your haughtiness has driven me to but it is no use trying to make you understand! Look at me, Miss Maggie! Am I the same man that adored you so? Don’t answer. I am, I am, for Harriet, forgive me, I love you yet I love you yet!”

“But you left me, Mr. Stacy.”

“Rather say the furies driv me. I wasn’t myself. It was another fellow that woman married: the true man staid with you, and here he is, just the same as ever, if you would only believe it but you won’t, you won’t!”

“How can I believe it, Mr. Stacy, after abandoning me so?”

“But not till you driv me to it not till you had slapped my face with that precious little hand.”

“Mr. Stacy, I I’m glad you care for me a little, because I want a great favor of you.”

Stacy sat upright in the iron seat, and pulled down his white vest with a couple of jerks.

“A favor, did you say?”

“Yes, a great favor.”

“And what may its nature be, Miss Maggie?”

“Mr. Stacy, you are a rich man.”

Stacy was troubled. To deny his wealth was a terrible sacrifice of vanity to admit it might be exposing himself to depredation.

“Well, yes,” he said at last, “I am rich. No one in New York would doubt that; but over here one has such trouble in getting funds, you understand. It was only this morning Mrs. Stacy wanted money for a little shopping, as she called it; but I couldn’t give it to her upon my soul I couldn’t.”

“Then, it would be of no use to ask you for a loan of twenty-five pounds, as I thought of doing.”

“A loan of twenty-five pounds, my dear Maggie! Five hundred pounds would not be too much, if I were only in New York; but here in London, where Alderman Stacy is not known, I could not raise even the miserable sum you want I could not, indeed.”

Maggie’s eyes began to flash, for she understood the meanness of this man, and despised it; but she thought of that anxious group in Olympia’s parlor, and resolved to have the money.

“Still, considering everything, I think you will try to oblige me.”

“Don’t ask me. It wounds my manhood to refuse; but let us talk of something else those dear old times ”

“No,” said Margaret, unlocking one of her bracelets, and closing it with a vicious snap. “If you cannot let me have it, I will go to your wife.”

“My wife? You go to my wife! Why, she hates you like pisón!”

“And I am not very fond of her; but I want this money, and she will have to give it me.”

Stacy pulled down his vest again, and broke into a mellow laugh.

“Well, I should like to see you try it on! What would you say to her, Maggie?”

“I would say: Mrs. Matthew Stacy, you and I were fellow-servants together in New York, where the lady was murdered; and for some days, you and I, and the person you have married, were left in charge of all the valuable property that house had in it. One of those nights I went away, leaving everything in its place. When I came back again the wardrobes had been plundered, the bureaus broken open, the wine-cellar pillaged.”

Matthew Stacy had been growing crimson while Maggie spoke. He put up a hand to his throat, as if something were choking him, and tore open a button or two of his vest; then he gasped out:

“Miss Maggie, Miss Maggie, do you mean to insinuate that I or my wife Harriet ”

“I don’t mean to insinuate anything, because what I say I know. You and your wife took these things. I knew it at the time; I can prove it now.”

“Prove it fourteen years after?”

“Some things do not wear out jewelry and India shawls, for instance. I was at the Opera not long since. My sister, who used to come and visit me so often, is a little in that line, and I used to show her all the shawls and splendid dresses our mistress used to have. Well, that night at the Opera we both saw your wife, sitting by you, with the best shawl the madam had, on her own shoulders. We knew it at a glimpse. There isn’t another just like it to be found in England or America. That shawl, Matthew Stacy, is worth thousands of dollars, and your wife, Harriet Long, the cook, was wearing it.”

“Margaret! Margaret Casey, you had better take care.”

“I have taken care. This woman had a gold-mounted opera-glass in her hand that we both can swear to. Besides that, she had a little watch at her side, set thick with diamonds. That watch she took to a jeweller to be mended. It is in his hands yet. When I leave this seat, it will be my first business to make sure that she never gets the watch again.”

“But it is fourteen years time enough for anything to be outlawed.”

“I have asked about that. Crimes are not like debts they cannot be outlawed, Mr. Stacy.”

“And you could find it in your heart to hunt down an old sweetheart like that, providing all you say is true? I wouldn’t a believed it of you, Maggie.”

“It seems to me that sweetheart just now refused to lend me twenty-five pounds.”

“Refused! No, he did not refuse.”

Matthew caught his breath, and changed his wheedling tone all at once. A new idea had struck him.

“But, supposing what you say is true, there isn’t any one in England to prosecute ”

“Yes, there is the lady’s agent. He sat by you when we first saw the shawl. Mr. Hepworth Closs.”

Matthew Stacy sprang to his feet, perfectly aghast.

“And you have told him?”

“Not yet; but I mean to!”

“You mean to ”

“Yes, I do!”

“That is it that is it the self-same cretur that left the print of her fingers on my cheek, and of herself on my heart. It is her who wishes to cast me to the earth, and have me stamped on by the law. Oh, Maggie Casey, Maggie Casey, I wouldn’t have believed it of you!”

“And I wouldn’t have believed you capable of refusing me fifty pounds!”

“Fifty pounds! It was twenty-five, Miss Margaret.”

“Yes; but I’ve changed my mind. One does not want to be refused a miserable sum like that. I’ve doubled it.”

“But I did not refuse; I only wanted to put the subject off till we had talked of old times I didn’t refuse you by any manner of means. You hadn’t told me anything about yourself how you came here, and what you were doing, or anything that an old lover’s heart was panting to know.”

“Well, I will tell you now. I have been, ever since that time, in the family of a nobleman, as a sort of half servant, half companion to his daughter.”

“You don’t say so! Then what on earth can you want of twenty-five pounds?”

“Fifty.”

“Well, fifty it is, then. Between us, that was all I hesitated about; twenty-five pounds was such a pitiful sum for you to ask of me. You didn’t understand this noble feeling, and almost threatened me; but not quite, and I’m glad of it, for Matthew Stacy is the last man on earth to give up to a threat. I hope you will believe that, Miss Margaret.”

“Fifty pounds!” said Margaret, lifting a tuft of grass by the roots with the point of her parasol.

“Did I dispute its being fifty? Certainly not. Now just say how you will take it in gold or Bank of England notes?”

“Notes will do.”

“I’m glad you said that, because I happen to have the notes about me,” answered the alderman, drawing out a plethoric note-case, and counting the money with terrible reluctance. “Here we are; just the sum. Now tell me, were you really in earnest about its being fifty?”

“Just fifty,” answered Margaret, counting the money on her lap; “just fifty.”

Matthew heaved a grievous sigh, and stood up.

“Now I suppose that little affair is settled forever?” he said, working both hands about the head of his cane, while he eyed the girl askance.

“I said fifty pounds, and fifty pounds it is,” answered Margaret. “Now let us be going.”

“But you mean to act fair?”

“I mean to act fair, and return your money.”

“Oh, I don’t mean that, I don’t want that! It was the other affair; you could not do anything so cruel.”

Margaret turned short round and faced the stout man, who was trembling, abjectly, from head to foot.

“Mr. Stacy, I have kept silent fifteen years and rather over. If I have not spoken before, you may be certain I never shall. I wanted this money very much, indeed, and shall repay it with less thankfulness because of the mean way in which I forced it from you. Your wife may wear her shawl and watch to the end, for any harm I mean her. Good morning, Mr. Stacy.”

Stacy stood just as she left him, thrusting his cane into the turf.

“And she wouldn’t have done it after all. What a confounded fool I have made of myself! Two hundred and fifty dollars, and gold up to one-forty at home, which makes another clean hundred. What a mercy it is she didn’t ask a thousand, though! She took the starch out of me, through and through. I should have handed over anything she asked.”

As Stacy was walking from the park, now and then giving a punch to the turf with his cane, in discontented abstraction, he nearly ran against a man who had just passed the gate, and, looking up angrily, saw Hepworth Closs. The poor craven turned white as he saw that face; but Hepworth was in haste, and took no heed of his agitation.

“You are just the man I most wanted,” he said.

“What what me? Is it me you wanted?” stammered Stacy, smitten with abject terror.

“Yes; you are an American, and will understand the value of American bonds.”

“American bonds! Surely, Mr. Closs, you will at least give me a chance of bail? I tell you it is all false! That creature isn’t to be believed under oath.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” said Closs, a good deal puzzled; “but you evidently do not understand me. I am about to leave England, and have a monied trust to settle before I go. There is a reason why it is inexpedient for me to act in person. I wish to pay the money, but give no explanation. Will you act as my agent in this?”

“Is is it that estate you are just settling up?” asked Stacy, below his breath, for he felt as if the earth were about to swallow him. “Is it that?”

“I can give you no explanation. This money came into my hands years ago. I invested it carefully doubled it over and over again; but now I wish to give up my trust. I have it here in American bonds, fifty thousand dollars.”

“Fifty thousand!”

“Just that. I wish you to take this to the young lady, to whom it rightfully belongs, and place it in her own hands, with the simple statement that it is hers. Will you oblige me in this?”

“First tell me who the young lady is.”

“Lady Clara, the daughter of Lord Hope, of Oakhurst.”

“The daughter of a lord! My dear sir, I shall be too happy!”

“But there is a condition. I do not wish the lady to guess where this money comes from. You must be understood as the agent, who has invested and increased it from a small property left in New York by a relative. This will work you no harm, but, on the contrary, win for you favor and gratitude from as noble a lady as ever lived.”

“Will it get an invitation to Oakhurst for myself and Mrs. Stacy? That is a thing I should like to mention incidentally, to the Board of Aldermen when they give me a public reception in the Governor’s Room. Will it bring about something of that kind?”

“That I cannot tell. The young lady is not now at Oakhurst, but with her grandmother, at Houghton Castle. It is there you will find her.”

“Houghton Castle! Why, that’s the place I saw mentioned in the Court Journal. There is to be tremendous doings at Houghton Castle before long; a grand entertainment, to which all the grandees, far and near, are invited. What if this fifty thousand dollars should get me and Mrs. S. an invite? That would be a crusher.”

“It is possible,” said Closs, controlling the fierce beating of his heart. “Come to my hotel in the morning, early. I am anxious to get this trust off my mind.”

Stacy promised, and the two men parted, the one elated, the other doubtful, harassed, and painfully disappointed; but the very next day after Matthew Stacy left London for Houghton, Hepworth Closs received a letter, which put all ideas of a voyage to America out of his mind.