The Lost Clue by O.F. Walton

WHEN Kenneth Fortescue had left Marjorie at the door of Colwyn House, he blamed himself very much that, for even a single moment, he had allowed his feelings to be seen by her. Perhaps she had not noticed; he hoped not. For what right had he, a practically homeless and penniless man, to allow any girl to see that he loved her, or to attempt, in however small a degree, to win her love in return? It was cruel, utterly heartless and unworthy of a man, he said to himself.

For what hope of future happiness could such love ever bring? As long as he was so heavily in debt to her mother (for he refused to allow that the letter she had found had in any way cancelled that obligation) every penny of his salary, beyond what he actually required for food and clothing and the other small necessaries of life, must be sent to Rosthwaite. He intended to send it in future at the end of each year, and as his salary was a fairly good one, he hoped to be able to remit a substantial sum the following Christmas. But four thousand pounds was a considerable amount to reach, and he realized that it would take years before he could return it all, if indeed his life were spared long enough for him to do so. Meanwhile the thought of a home of his own was one of the many things denied to him, one of the indulgences which he had told Mrs. Douglas that he should renounce.