t was an undeniable madness in Kimberley even to dream of
loving the Lady Ella Santerre. He knew perfectly well what a fool he
was; but he was in love for all that.

To Bolsover Kimberley, seated in a little room with a dingy red desk and
cobwebbed skylight, there entered Mr. Ragshaw, senior clerk to Messrs.
Begg, Batter, and Bagg, solicitors.

"My dear Mr. Kimberley," said Mr. Ragshaw, "allow me the honour of
shaking hands with you. I believe that I am the first bearer of good
news."

Mr. Kimberley turned pale.

"My firm, sir," pursued Mr. Ragshaw, "represented the trustees of the
late owner of the Gallowbay Estate, who died three months ago at the age
of twenty, leaving no known relatives. We instituted a search, which
resulted in the discovery of an indisputable title to the estate. Permit
me to congratulate you, sir--the estate is yours."

Bolsover Kimberley gasped, and his voice was harsh.

"How much?"

"The estate, sir, is now approximately valued at forty-seven thousand
per annum."

Kimberley lurched forward, and fell over in a dead faint. Mr. Ragshaw's
attentions restored him to his senses, and he drank a little water, and
sobbed hysterically.

When he had recovered a little, he arose weakly from the one office
chair, took off his office coat, rolled it up neatly, and put it in his
desk. Then he put on his walking coat and his hat and went out.

"Don't you think, Mr. Kimberley," asked Mr. Ragshaw, with profound
respect, "that a little something----"

They were outside the Windgall Arms, and Kimberley understood.

"Why, yes, sir," he said; "but I never keep it in the 'ouse, and having
had to pay a tailor's bill this week, I don't happen----"

"My _dear_ sir, allow me!" said Ragshaw, with genuine emotion.

The champagne, the dinner that followed, the interviews with pressmen,
the excitement and obsequiousness of everybody, conveyed to Kimberley's
mind, in a dizzy sort of a way, that he was somebody in the world, and
ought to be proud of it. But his long life of servitude, his shyness and
want of nerve, all weighed heavily upon him, and he was far from being
happy.

Mr. Begg, senior partner of Messrs. Begg, Batter, and Bagg, was sitting
in his office a day or two later when a clerk ushered in the Earl of
Windgall.

"What's this news about Gallowbay, Begg? Is it true?" asked the earl.

"It is certainly true," answered Begg.

"What sort of fellow is this Kimberley?"

"Well, he seems to be a s