both sides fairly, its dying owner had, in the
face of his lawyer's protests, inserted one clause which, for financial
reasons, rendered a second union between the houses of Alton and
Deringham distinctly advisable. There was, however, a high spirit in
the girl, and she looked at her father steadily.

"But you were left the money, or most of it?" she said.

"Yes," said Deringham grimly. "I was left the money."

The girl asked nothing further, for there was something in the man's
face which warned her not to press that subject. She knew that her
father had long acted as financial adviser to the late owner of
Carnaby, but it was not astonishing that Deringham had not told her he
had exceeded the discretion allowed him, and been singularly
unfortunate in his speculations.

She rose, and a man who like themselves had finished his meal leisurely
followed them outside into the verandah. He smiled as he drew out a
chair for the girl, and then sat down opposite her father with a card
in his hand.

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Deringham. I'll introduce myself," said he.

Deringham took the card handed him, and glanced with an air of quiet
indifference at the stranger, while his daughter looked apparently
straight past him towards the climbing pines. Nevertheless, she had
seen the man, and was not pleased with him. He had a somewhat fleshy
face, beady black eyes with a boldness in them that was more akin to
insolence than courage, and a full-lipped, mobile mouth. His dress was
correct enough, though he wore a somewhat ample ring with a diamond in
it, and his watchchain was too heavy and prominent, but there was a
suggestion of coarseness about him. Her father, leaning forward in his
chair with an air of languid curiosity, the card in his slender
fingers, appeared his antithesis, and yet the girl fancied there was a
resemblance in the expression of the two faces. She also felt her
dislike for the stranger increased when she saw for the first time the
look of greed and cunning in his face reflected in that of her father.
She had hitherto only pictured him as a skilful financier, but now she
saw qualities she had never suspected in him revealed as by a daring
caricature.

"Willard Hallam," Deringham read aloud. "Hallam and Vose. Land and
mining agents. Advances made on mineral claims."

"Yes," said the stranger, smiling. "That's me."

Deringham made no comment, but laid the card down beside him. "I
wonder," he s