She broke suddenly off with the name “Archibald;” not even to Richard could she speak of her intense love for, and happiness in her husband.

“How is it at the Grove?” he asked.

“Quite well; quite as usual.  Mamma has been in better health lately.  She does not know of this visit, but—­”

“I must see her,” interrupted Richard.  “I did not see her the last time, you remember.”

“All in good time to talk of that.  How are you getting on in Liverpool?  What are you doing?”

“Don’t inquire too closely, Barbara.  I have no regular work, but I get a job at the docks, now and then, and rub on.  It is seasonable help, that, which comes to me occasionally from you.  Is it from you or Carlyle?”

Barbara laughed.  “How are we to distinguish?  His money is mine now, and mine is his.  We don’t have separate purses, Richard; we send it to you jointly.”

“Sometimes I have fancied it came from my mother.”

Barbara shook her head.  “We have never allowed mamma to know that you left London, or that we hold an address where we can write to you.  It would not have done.”

“Why have you summoned me here, Barbara?  What has turned up?”

“Thorn has—­I think.  You would know him again Richard?”

“Know him!” passionately echoed Richard Hare.

“Were you aware that a contest for the membership is going on at West Lynne?”

“I saw it in the newspapers.  Carlyle against Sir Francis Levison.  I say, Barbara, how could he think of coming here to oppose Carlyle after his doing with Lady Isabel?”

“I don’t know,” said Barbara.  “I wonder that he should come here for other reasons also.  First of all, Richard, tell me how you came to know Sir Francis Levison.  You say you did know him, and that you had seen him with Thorn.”

“So I do know him,” answered Richard.  “And I saw him with Thorn twice.”

“Know him by sight only, I presume.  Let me hear how you came to know him.”

“He was pointed out to me.  I saw him walk arm-in-arm with a gentleman, and I showed them to the waterman at the cab-stand hard by.  ’Do you know that fellow?’ I asked him, indicating Thorn, for I wanted to come at who he really is—­which I didn’t do.  ‘I don’t know that one,’ the old chap answered, ’but the one with him is Levison the baronet.  They are often together—­a couple of swells they looked.’”

“And that’s how you got to know Levison?”

“That was it,” said Richard Hare.

“Then, Richard, you and the waterman made a mess of it between you.  He pointed out the wrong one, or you did not look at the right.  Thorn is Sir Francis Levison.”

Richard stared at her with all his eyes.

“Nonsense, Barbara!”