VERY HARD CASH.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND."
CHAPTER XXVIII

MR. HARDIE was taken by surprise for once,
and had not a word to say; but looked in his
son's face, mute, and gaping, as a fish.

During this painful silence his children eyed
him inquiringly; but not with the same result;
for one face is often read differently by two
persons: to Jane, whose intelligence had no aids,
he seemed unaffectedly puzzled; but Alfred
discerned, beneath his wonder, the terror of detection
rising, and then thrust back by the strong
will: that stoical face shut again like an iron
door; but not quickly enough: the right words,
the "open sesame" had been spoken, and one
unguarded look had confirmed Alfred's vague
suspicions of foul play: he turned his own face
away: he was alienated by the occurrences of
the last few months, but Nature and tender
reminiscences still held him by some fibres of the
heart: in a moment of natural indignation he
had applied the touchstone; but its success
grieved him; he could not bear to go on
exposing his father; so he left the room with a
deep sigh, in which pity mingled with shame and
regret; he wandered out into the silent night,
and soon was leaning on the gate of Albion
Villa, gazing wistfully at the windows, and sore
perplexed, and nobly wretched.

As he was going out, Mr. Hardie raised his
eyebrows with a look of disinterested wonder and
curiosity; and touched his forehead to Jane, as
much as to say, "Is he disordered in his mind?"

As soon as they were alone, he asked her
coolly what Alfred meant. She said she had no
idea. Then he examined her keenly about this
fourteen thousand pounds: and found, to his
relief, Alfred had never even mentioned it to
her.

And now Richard Hardie, like his son, wanted
to be alone, and think over this new peril, that
had risen in the bosom of his own family: and,
for once, the company of his favourite child was
irksome: he made an excuse and strolled out in
his turn into the silent night. It was calm and
clear: the thousand holy eyes, under which men
prefer to do their crimes—except when they are
in too great a hurry to wait—looked down and
seemed to wonder anything can be so silly as to
sin: and beneath their pure gaze the man of the
world pondered with all his soul. He tormented
himself with conjectures: through what channel
did Alfred suspect him? through the Dodds?
were they aware of their loss? had the pocket-
book spoken? If so, why had not Mrs. Dodd or
her son attacked him? But then perhaps Alfred
was their agent: they wished to try a friendly
remonstrance through a mutual friend before
proceeding to extremities; this accorded with
Mrs. Dodd's character as he remembered her.

The solution was reasonable; but he was
relieved of it by recollecting what Alfred had said,
that he had not entered the house since the bank
broke.

On this he began to hope Alfred's might be a
mere suspicion he could not establish by any
proof, and at all events he would lock it in his
own breast like a good son: his never having
given a hint even to his sister favoured this
supposition.

Thus meditating, Mr. Hardie found himself at
the gate of Albion Villa.

Yet he had strolled out with no particular
intention of going there. Had his mind,
apprehensive of danger from that quarter, driven his
body thither?

He took a look at the house: and the first
thing he saw was a young lady leaning over the
balcony, and murmuring softly to a male figure
below, whose outline Mr. Hardie could hardly
discern, for it stood in the shadow. Mr. Hardie
was delighted: "Aha, Miss Juliet," said he, "if
Alfred does not visit you, some one else does.
You have soon supplied your peevish lover's
place." He then withdrew softly from the gate,
not to disturb the intrigue, and watched a few
yards off; determined to see who Julia's nightly
visitor was, and give Alfred surprise for
surprise.

He had not long to wait: the man came away
directly, and walked, head erect, past Mr. Hardie,
and glanced full in his face, but did not vouchsafe
him a word. It was Alfred himself. Mr.
Hardie was profoundly alarmed, and indignant:
"The young traitor! Never enter the house?
no; but he comes and tells her everything
directly, under her window, on the sly: and,
when he is caught—defies me to my face." And
now he suspected female cunning and malice in