One morning Roland came hurriedly into the shop. "My sister is coming here, I am sure, Miss Mohun," he said. "Tell Denas, if you please, she said she wished to meet her again. Tell her I will remain here and stand by her." There was no time to deliberate, and Denas, acting upon the feeling of the moment, came quickly to Roland, and was talking to him when Mrs. Burrell entered. They remained in conversation a moment or two, as if loth to part; then Denas advanced to the customer with an air of courtesy, but also of perfect ignorance as to her personality.
Denas touched a bell and returned to Roland, who had appeared to be unconscious of his sister's presence. Elizabeth glanced at her brother; then, without waiting for Priscilla, left the shop. The lovely face of Denas was like a flame. "Thank you, Roland!" she said with effusion. "You have paid my account in full for me."
"Then, darling, let me come here to-night and say something very important to us both. Priscilla will give me house-room for an hour, I know she will. Here she comes. Let me ask her."
Priscilla affected reluctance, but really she was prepared for the request. She had expected it before and had been uneasy at its delay. She was beginning to fear Roland's visits might be noticed, might be talked about, might injure her custom. It pleased her much to anticipate an end to a risky situation. She managed, without urging Denas, to make the girl feel that her relations with Roland ought either to be better understood or else entirely broken off.
So Roland went back to his inn with a promise that made him light-hearted. "Elizabeth has done me one good turn," he soliloquized. "Now let me see. I will consider my plea and get all in order. First, I must persuade Denas to go to London. Second, the question is, marriage or no marriage? Third, her voice and its cultivation. Fourth, the hundred pounds in St. Merryn's Bank. Fifth, everything as soon as can be--to-morrow night if possible. Sixth, my own money from Tremaine. I should have about four hundred pounds. Heigho! I wish it was eight o'clock. And what an old cat Priscilla is! I do not think I shall give her the fifty pounds I promised her. She does not deserve it--and she never durst ask me for it."