'He is very generous,' said Guy. 'Oh, there is much of a noble character in him.'
'Noble! humph!' put in Markham. 'He has gone down-hill fast enough, since I used to see him in your father's time; but I am glad he had the decency not to be the undoing of you.'
'His feeling is his great point,' said Guy, 'when you can once get at it. I wish--' But breaking off short, 'I can't make it out. What did little Marianne tell you? Or was it Miss Wellwood?'
'It was first the youngest sister,' said Markham. 'I sat there talking to her some little time; she said you had been very kind to the family, and the child was very grateful to you--was always talking of some morning when you and your dog came, and helped her mother. Her father had been out all night, and her mother was crying, she said, and declaring he would be sent to prison, till you came and helped them.'
'Yes, that's it,' said Guy.
'Well, I remembered what you had told me of the mystery of the draft, and guessed that this might be the clue to it. I begged to see the child, and in she came, the very image of your mother, and a sharp little thing that knew what she meant, but had not much idea of the shame, poor child, about her father. She told me the story of his coming home in the morning, and her mother being in great distress, and saying they were ruined, till you came and talked to her mother, and gave her something. I asked if it was money, and she said it was paper. I showed her a draft, and she knew it was like that. So then I made her tell me where to find her father, whom I used to know in old times, and had to write to, now and then. I hunted him up, and a creditable figure he was, to be sure; but I got the truth out of him at last, and when he heard you had got into disgrace on his account, he raved like a tragedy hero, and swore he would come and tell your guardian the whole story. I put him into a cab for fear he should repent, and he had just got to the end of it when you came in.'
'It is of no use to thank you again, Markham!'
'Why, I have been getting your family out of scrapes these forty years or thereabouts,' said Markham; ''tis all I am good for; and if they had been no worse than this one it would be better for all of us. But time is getting on, and there is enough to do.'