Emilia drew a long breath. It was there he lived; but she would make sure.
A boy with a basket of bread slung across his shoulders had stopped at the next house to deliver a loaf. Leonard Paget had passed the boy, who looked at him while he was opening the street door. Then the boy, having received some money, lounged on to the house which Leonard had entered, and knocked and rang. The housekeeper, Mrs. Middlemore, answered the summons, and took in a loaf. When the street door was closed again Emilia crossed over to the lad, and asked him if he would like a shilling, to which the boy facetiously replied that he would like two, but would put up with one if he could not get more.
"I will give you two," said Emilia, "if you answer a few questions."
"I want to know who that gentleman is who went into the house you have just left?"
"That gent as let himself in with his latch-key. Oh, that's Mr. Felix."
"Oh, you're going to cry off, are you? I call that mean, I do. I tell you it's Mr. Felix."
Emilia considered a moment. What more likely than that Leonard Paget was living there under an assumed name?
"Are you sure? Here is the first shilling."
"Cock sure. Why, he's lived there years and years, and there's nobody in the house but him. There's a housekeeper, Mrs. Middlemore; she took in a loaf from me."
"Does this Mr. Felix live there regularly?"
"I see him regularly, so he lives there regularly. Anything more I can do for you?"
"No, thank you; here is your other shilling."
"Thank you." And the boy walked off, whistling.
For the unexpected good fortune of this discovery Emilia was very grateful, and her mind was now occupied in considering how to make the best use of it. She did not linger in Gerard Street lest she should be seen by Gerald's brother, but before she left it she ascertained that he was known not as Mr., but as Monsieur Felix. For what reason had he concealed his right name? For what reason had he assumed that of a foreigner? It was perhaps because she had but one subject to think of, but one supreme end to attain, that she mentally decided that she herself was not unconnected with his motive for concealing his identity. If that were the case it would be difficult indeed to obtain an interview with him. If she presented herself in person, or sent up her name, he would refuse to receive her; if she forced herself upon him he would not listen to her, and the next time she went to him she would find that he had flown. Thus her mission would be a failure and the unhappiness of her daughter insured. It behooved her to be very careful in her movements; the least slip would be fatal.