‘Who is it, mother?’ Emily asked nervously.

’Why, my dear, it’s that man Cheeseman!  The very idea of his coming here!  Now, mark my words, he’s come to ask for that money back again, or for some of it, at all events.  It was just showing off, pretending to pay it back; exactly like him!  But if your father’s foolish enough to do anything of the kind—­There, he’s knocking.  I hoped never to see his face again as long as I lived; how ever he can have the impudence to come!  I suppose I must let him in; but I’m sure I shan’t offer him any dinner.’

Emily had risen from her chair, and was trembling with excitement.

‘Oh yes, mother,’ she cried, with a joy which astonished Mrs. Heed, ’we must behave kindly to him.  He paid father the money; we must remember that.’

’Well, you’ll see if I’m net right.  But I can’t keep him standing at the door.  Do untie this apron, Emily; I’m so nervous, I can’t get at the knot.  See, now, if he hasn’t come for the money back again.’

‘Never mind; he paid it!  He paid it!’

‘I can’t understand you, child.  What is there to be so pleased about?’

‘Mother, do go to the door.  Or shall I?’

The girl was overcome with a sudden light in utter darkness.  She grasped at her mother’s explanation of the visitor’s arrival; unable, in her ardour, to calculate probabilities, to review details.  Dagworthy had been guilty of a base falsehood; the man approached who could assure her of it.  It was a plot, deeply planned.  In some manner Dagworthy had learned what had happened to her father in Hebsworth, and had risked everything on the terror he could inspire in her.  The coming of her father’s friend was salvation.

She found herself clasping his hand warmly.

‘Well, Miss Hood,’ Cheeseman came in exclaiming, ’you may perhaps have half a recollection of me, when you’re told who I am, but I’m quite sure I shouldn’t have known you.  Your good father was telling me about you yesterday; rare and proud he was to speak of you, too, and not without reason, I see.  Mrs. Hoed, you’ve no need to complain of your for tune.  Times have been hard, no doubt, but they’ve brought you a blessing.  If I had a young lady such as this to look at me and call me father—­well, well, it won’t do to think of it.’

In spite of her determination, Mrs. Hoed was mollified into an offer of dinner.  Mr. Cheeseman affected to refuse, but at a word from Emily he allowed himself to be persuaded.  The two sat with him, and listened to his talk of bygone days.  Emily’s face was flushed; she kept her eyes on Cheeseman as if his arrival were that of a long-hoped-for friend.  The visitor abounded in compliments to mother and daughter alike.  He ate, the while, with extreme heartiness, and at length drew from the table in the most effusive mood.

‘Mrs. Hood,’ he said, leaning forward, ’I owe you an apology, many apologies.  You and your good husband in times long past did me a service of a very substantial kind.  You thought I had forgotten it—­yes, you couldn’t help but think it—­’