. Willoughby started at the mention of that name. Then she turned
away her head, and did not say a word for a long time.

"Kitty!"

No answer.

"Kitty darling, what's the matter?"

Mrs. Willoughby turned her head once more. Her face was quite calm,
and her voice had its usual tone, as she asked,

"Say that name again."

"Scone Dacres," said Minnie.

"Scone Dacres!" repeated Mrs. Willoughby; "and what sort of a man is
he?"

"Big--very big--awfully big!" said Minnie. "Great, big head and broad
shoulders. Great, big arms, that carried me as if I were a feather;
big beard too; and it tickled me so when he--he pretended that he was
my father; and very sad. And, oh! I know I should be so _aw_fully fond
of him. And, oh! Kitty darling, what do you think?"

"What, dearest?"

"Why, I'm--I'm afraid--I'm really beginning to--to--like him--just a
little tiny bit, you know."

"Scone Dacres!" repeated Mrs. Willoughby, who didn't seem to have
heard this last effusion. "Scone Dacres! Well, darling, don't trouble
yourself; he sha'n't trouble you."

"But I _want_ him to," said Minnie.

"Oh, nonsense, child!"

[Illustration: "HALLO, OLD MAN, WHAT'S UP NOW?"]

CHAPTER X.

A FEARFUL DISCOVERY.

A few days after this Hawbury was in his room, when Dacres entered.

"Hallo, old man, what's up now? How goes the war?" said Hawbury. "But
what the mischief's the matter? You look cut up. Your brow is sad;
your eyes beneath flash like a falchion from its sheath. What's
happened? You look half snubbed, and half desperate."

Dacres said not a word, but flung himself into a chair with a look
that suited Hawbury's description of him quite accurately. His brows
lowered into a heavy frown, his lips were compressed, and his breath
came quick and hard through his inflated nostrils. He sat thus for
some time without taking any notice whatever of his friend, and at
length lighted a cigar, which he smoked, as he often did when excited,
in great voluminous puffs. Hawbury said nothing, but after one or two
quick glances at his friend, rang a bell and ordered some "Bass."

"Here, old fellow," said he, drawing the attention of Dacres to the
refreshing draught. "Take some--'Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe,
and forget thy lost Lenore.'"

Dacres at this gave a heavy sigh that sounded like a groan, and
swallowed several tumblers in quick succession.

"Hawbury!" said he at length, in a half-stifled voice.

"Well, old man?"

"