osal that
the matter should be left in the hands of the Rev. Cooper Smith, who
was going to England in the course of ten days, and was willing to make
a slight detour to Leeds. So it was settled. The watch and locket
were entrusted to the rector, who promised to see the watchmaker and
Lady Waterham.

"You seem more annoyed than anything else," said Jim crossly to Elsie,
when the final arrangements were being made in the rectory study.

"I cannot say I am pleased," replied the girl. "I fear lest you should
be disappointed, Jim; and, on the other hand, I don't want to be
anything but what I am. I have not been brought up a lady, and to find
that I had been born one would be no pleasure. If you could be a lord,
Jim, without affecting me, it would be all right."

"Why, Elsie, you have no ambition."

"None to be put in a false position, which I could not rightly fill."

CHAPTER IX.

"What a solemn and mysterious communication," said Lady Waterham,
laughing, as she handed a letter across the breakfast table to her
husband.

"Pooh! my dear, it is some Irish beggar; you had better not see him,"
said his lordship as he rose from the table.

"O scarcely--it would be too impertinent."

The letter ran as follows:--

"The Rev. Cooper Gore Smith presents his compliments to Lady Waterham,
and trusts that she will find it convenient to receive him on Tuesday
morning at about eleven o'clock, when he hopes to have the honour of
waiting on her ladyship.

"The Rev. Cooper Gore Smith's reasons for troubling Lady Waterham can
scarcely be explained in a letter. Suffice it that the affair on which
he is engaged is of considerable importance to those chiefly concerned,
and may even prove not to be without interest for her ladyship.

"_Railway Hotel, Leeds,_
"Sept. 3, 187--."

This the worthy man flattered himself was in his best style. He was
considerably puffed up by the importance of his mission, and, although
he had the wisdom to keep them secret, his aspirations were nearly as
far-reaching as those of Jim himself. To have been the friend and
patron of two long-lost scions of nobility was an idea too romantic and
agreeable not to be dwelt on, even though he reminded himself again and
again that it had probably no foundation. It was, therefore, with no
little self-importance that the note was penned, and in a similar frame
of mind he started for Burnham Park next morning.

Lady Waterham was sitting in t