I started, in ungovernable agitation, to my feet. The lawyer's question

reminded me, for the first time since I had left England, that something

HAD happened.

In the eighth chapter of Betteredge's Narrative, an allusion will be

found to the arrival of a foreigner and a stranger at my aunt's house,

who came to see me on business. The nature of his business was this.

I had been foolish enough (being, as usual, straitened for money at the

time) to accept a loan from the keeper of a small restaurant in Paris,

to whom I was well known as a customer. A time was settled between

us for paying the money back; and when the time came, I found it (as

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thousands of other honest men have found it) impossible to keep my

engagement. I sent the man a bill. My name was unfortunately too well

known on such documents: he failed to negotiate it. His affairs had

fallen into disorder, in the interval since I had borrowed of him;

bankruptcy stared him in the face; and a relative of his, a French

lawyer, came to England to find me, and to insist upon the payment of my

debt. He was a man of violent temper; and he took the wrong way with

me. High words passed on both sides; and my aunt and Rachel were

unfortunately in the next room, and heard us. Lady Verinder came in,

and insisted on knowing what was the matter. The Frenchman produced his

credentials, and declared me to be responsible for the ruin of a poor

man, who had trusted in my honour. My aunt instantly paid him the

money, and sent him off. She knew me better of course than to take

the Frenchman's view of the transaction. But she was shocked at my

carelessness, and justly angry with me for placing myself in a position,

which, but for her interference, might have become a very disgraceful

one. Either her mother told her, or Rachel heard what passed--I can't

say which. She took her own romantic, high-flown view of the matter. I

was "heartless"; I was "dishonourable"; I had "no principle"; there

was "no knowing what I might do next"--in short, she said some of the

severest things to me which I had ever heard from a young lady's lips.

The breach between us lasted for the whole of the next day. The day

after, I succeeded in making my peace, and thought no more of it. Had

Rachel reverted to this unlucky accident, at the critical moment when my

place in her estimation was again, and far more seriously, assailed?

Mr. Bruff, when I had mentioned the circumstances to him, answered the

question at once in the affirmative.

"It would have its effect on her mind," he said gravely. "And I wish,

for your sake, the thing had not happened. However, we have discovered

that there WAS a predisposing influence against you--and there is one

uncertainty cleared out of our way, at any rate. I see nothing more that

we can do now. Our next step in this inquiry must be the step that takes

us to Rachel."




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