“Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!”

“It is very bad; but there is always something to be done. We must lose no time in letting Mr Rubb know the truth. When he hears how it is, he will understand that something must be done for you out of the firm.”

“He won’t do anything. He’s downstairs now, flirting with that girl in the drawing-room, instead of being at his business.”

“If he’s downstairs, I will see him.”

As Mrs Mackenzie made no objection to this, Margaret went downstairs, and when she came near the passage at the bottom, she heard the voices of people talking merrily in the parlour. As her hand was on the lock of the door, words from Miss Colza became very audible. “Now, Mr Rubb, be quiet.” So she knocked at the door, and having been invited by Mr Rubb to come in, she opened it.

It may be presumed that the flirting had not gone to any perilous extent, as there were three or four children present. Nevertheless Miss Colza and Mr Rubb were somewhat disconcerted, and expressed their surprise at seeing Miss Mackenzie.

“We all thought you were staying with the baronet’s lady,” said Miss Colza.

Miss Mackenzie explained that she was staying at Twickenham, but that she had come up to pay a visit to her sister-in-law. “And I’ve a word or two I want to say to you, Mr Rubb, if you’ll allow me.”

“I suppose, then, I’d better make myself scarce,” said Miss Colza.

As she was not asked to stay, she did make herself scarce, taking the children with her up among the tables and chairs in the drawing-room. There she found Mary Jane, but she did not find Mrs Mackenzie, who had thrown herself on the bed in her agony upstairs.

Then Miss Mackenzie told her wretched story to Mr Rubb,—telling it for the third time. He was awe-struck as he listened, but did not once attempt to deny the facts, as had been done by Mrs Mackenzie.

“And is it sure?” he asked, when her story was over.

“I don’t suppose it is quite sure yet. Indeed, Mr Slow said it was not quite sure. But I have not allowed myself to doubt it, and I do not doubt it.”

“If he himself had not felt himself sure, he would not have told you.”

“Just so, Mr Rubb. That is what I think; and therefore I have given my sister-in-law no hint that there is a chance left. I think you had better not do so either.”

“Perhaps not,” said he. He spoke in a low voice, almost whispering, as though he were half scared by the tidings he had heard.

“It is very dreadful,” she said; “very dreadful for Sarah and the children.”

“And for you too, Miss Mackenzie.”

“But about them, Mr Rubb. What can you do for them out of the business?”

He looked very blank, and made no immediate answer.

“I know you will feel for their position,” she said. “You do; do you not?”