VERY HARD CASH.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND."

CHAPTER XXXIII.

AT these plain proofs of Alfred's infidelity,
Julia's sweet throat began to swell hysterically,
and then her bosom to heave and pant: and, after
a piteous struggle, came a passion of sobs and
tears so wild, so heartbroken, that Edward
blamed himself bitterly for telling her.

But Mrs. Dodd sobbed "No, no, I would
rather have her so; only leave her with me now:
bless you, darling: leave us quickly."

She rocked and nursed her deserted child
hours and hours; and so the miserable day
crawled to its close.

Down stairs the house looked strange and
gloomy: she, who had brightened it all, was
darkened herself. The wedding breakfast and
flowers remained in bitter mockery. Sarah
cleared half the table, and Sampson and Edward
dined in moody silence.

Presently Sampson's eye fell upon the Deed:
it lay on a small table with a pen beside it, to
sign on their return from church.

Sampson got hold of it and buried himself in
the verbiage like a pearl-fisher diving. He
came up again with a discovery. In spite of its
feebleness, verbosity, obscurity, and idiotic way
of expressing itself, the Deed managed to convey
to David and Mrs. Dodd a life interest in nine
thousand five hundred pounds, with reversion
to Julia and the children of the projected
marriage. Sampson and Edward put their heads
over this, and it puzzled them. "Why, man,"
said Sampson, "if the puppy had signed this
last night, he would be a beggar now."

"Ay," said Edward, "but after all he did not
sign it."

"Nay, but that was your fault, not his; the
lad was keen to sign."

"That is true: and perhaps if we had pinned
him to this, last night, he would not have dared
insult my sister to-day."

Sampson changed the subject by inquiring
suddenly which way he was gone.

"Curse him, I don't know; and don't care.
Go where he will I shall meet him again some
day; and then— " Edward spoke almost in
a whisper, but a certain grinding of his white
teeth and flashing of his lion eyes made the
incomplete sentence very expressive.

"What ninnies you young men are," said the
Doctor; " even you, that I dub 'my fathom o'
good sense:' just finish your denner, and
come with me."

"No, Doctor; I'm off my feed for once: if
you had been up-stairs and seen my poor little
sister! hang the grub; it turns my stomach."
And he shoved his plate away, and leaned over
the back of his chair.

Sampson made him drink a glass of wine, and
then they got up from the half-finished meal and
went hurriedly to Alfred's lodgings, the Doctor,
though sixty, rushing along with all the fire and
buoyancy of early youth.

They found the landlady surrounded by gossips
curious as themselves, and longing to chatter,
but no materials. The one new fact they
elicited was that the vehicle was a White Lion fly,
for she knew the young man by the cast in his
eye. "Come away," shouted the Doctor,
unceremoniously, and in two minutes they were in
the yard of the White Lion.

Sampson called the ostler: out came a hard-
featured man with a strong squint. Sampson
concluded this was his man, and said roughly:
"Where did you drive young Hardie this morning?"

He seemed rather taken aback by this abrupt
question; but reflected and slapped his thigh:
"Why that is the party from Mill-street."

"Yes."

"Druv him to Silverton station, sir: and
wasn't long about it, either; gent was in a
hurry."

"What train did he go by?"

"Well, I don't know, sir; I left him at the
station."

"Well, then where did he take his ticket for?
Where did he tell the porter he was going?
Think now, and I'll give y' a sovereign."

The ostler scratched his head, and seemed at
first inclined to guess for the sovereign, but at
last said: "I should only be robbing you, gents;
ye see he paid the fly then and there, and gave
me a crown: and I druv away directly."

On this they gave him a shilling, and left
him. But on leaving the yard, Edward said:
"Doctor I don't like that fellow's looks: let
us try the landlord." They went into the bar
and made similar inquiries. The landlord was
out, the mistress knew nothing about it, but
took a book out of a drawer, and turned over
the leaves. She read out an entry to this effect: