“What do you mean, Will?”

“Well, I want to know how it would strike you.  Should you be horrified?”

“No; but astonished.”

“Very well.  The fact of the matter is then,” said Warburton, with an uneasy smile, “that for a couple of years I have been doing that.  It came about in this way—­”

He related Godfrey Sherwood’s reckless proceedings, and the circumstances which had decided him to take a shop.  No exclamation escaped the listener; she walked with eyes downcast, and, when her brother ceased, looked at him very gently, affectionately.

“It was brave of you, Will,” she said.

“Well, I saw no other way of making good the loss; but now I am sick of living a double life—­that has really been the worst part of it, all along.  What I want to ask you, is—­would it be wise or not to tell mother?  Would it worry and distress her?  As for the money, you see there’s nothing to worry about; the shop will yield a sufficient income, though not as much as we hoped from Applegarth’s; but of course I shall have to go on behind the counter.”

He broke off, laughing, and Jane smiled, though with a line of trouble on her brow.

“That won’t do,” she said, with quiet decision.

“Oh, I’m getting used to it.”

“No, no, Will, it won’t do.  We must find a better way.  I see no harm in shopkeeping, if one has been brought up to it; but you haven’t, and it isn’t suitable for you.  About mother—­yes, I think we’d better tell her.  She won’t worry on account of the money; that isn’t her nature, and it’s very much better that there should be confidence between us all.”

“I haven’t enjoyed telling lies,” said Will, “I assure you.”

“That I’m sure you haven’t, poor boy!—­but Mr. Sherwood?  Hasn’t he made any effort to help you.  Surely he—­”

“Poor old Godfrey!” broke in her brother, laughing.  “It’s a joke to remember that I used to think him a splendid man of business, far more practical than I. Why, there’s no dreamier muddlehead living.”

He told the stories of Strangwyn and of Milligan with such exuberance of humour that Jane could not but join in his merriment.

“No, no; it’s no good looking in that direction.  The money has gone, there’s no help for it.  But you can depend on Jollyman’s.  Of course the affair would have been much more difficult without Allchin.  Oh, you must see Allchin some day!”

“And absolutely no one has discovered the secret?” asked Jane.

Will hesitated, then.

“Yes, one person.  You remember the name of Miss Elvan?  A fortnight ago—­imagine the scene—­she walked into the shop with a friend of hers, a Miss Cross, who has been one of my customers from the first.  As soon as she caught sight of me she turned and ran; yes, ran out into the street in indignation and horror.  Of course she must have told her friend, and whether Miss Cross will ever come to the shop again, I don’t know.  I never mentioned that name to you, did I?  The Crosses were friends of Norbert Franks.  And, by the bye, I hear that Franks was married to Miss Elvan a few days ago—­just after her awful discovery.  No doubt she told him, and perhaps he’ll drop my acquaintance.”