nd yet--no, I can't remember," he wound up
suddenly. "Tell me about it, my boy."

"Why, the Kynaston murder, of course. That was at Thurwell Court. Sir
Geoffrey Kynaston was engaged to Miss Thurwell, you know, and she was
one of the first to find him."

"Dear me! Dear me! I remember all about it now, to be sure," Mr. Levy
exclaimed. "The murderer was never found, was he? Got clean off?"

"That's so," assented Mr. Benjamin. "Dad, it's a rum thing, but I was
interested in that case. There was something queer about it. I read it
every bit. I could stand a cross-examination in it now. Dad, it's a
lucky thing. She's coming here to consult us about it, as sure as my
name is Ben Levy. And, by jabers, here she is!"

There was the sound of a cab stopping at the door, and through a chink
in the blinds Mr. Benjamin had seen a lady descend from it. In a moment
his hat was off and on the peg, and he commenced writing a letter at the
desk.

"Dad," he said quickly, without looking up, "leave this matter to me,
will you? I'm up in the case. A lady, did you say, Morrison?"--turning
toward the door. "Very good. Show her in at once."

CHAPTER XII

A JEWEL OF A SON

For the first time in her life Helen was taking a definite and important
step without her father's knowledge. The matter was one which had caused
her infinite thought and many heart searchings. The burden of Rachel
Kynaston's dying words had fallen upon her alone. There seemed to be no
escape from it. She must act, and must act for herself. Any sort of
appeal to her father for help was out of the question. She knew
beforehand exactly what his view of the matter would be. In all things
concerning her sex he was of that ancient school which reckoned
helplessness and inaction the chief and necessary qualities of women
outside the domestic circle. He might himself have made some move in the
matter, but it would have been half hearted and under protest. She knew
exactly what his point of view would be. Rachel Kynaston had been
excited by a fancied wrong--her last words were uttered in a veritable
delirium! She could not part with the responsibility. The shadow of it
lay upon her, and her alone. She must act herself or not at all. She
must act herself, and without her father's knowledge, or be false to the
charge laid upon her by a dying woman. So with a heavy heart she had
accepted what seemed to her to be the inevitable.

She was shown at once into the inner sanc