e girl
may be small enough and mean enough to decline to have anything to
say to me because her father was a bad lot, and she doesn't want to be
reminded of him, but for that very reason can you imagine her virtually
refusing a large sum of money? I told old Cuthbert all about it. There
was 10,000 pounds worth of shares waiting for her and no need for any
fuss. Can you understand that?"

"It seems very odd," she said. "Perhaps the girl objects to being given
money. It is a large sum to take as a present from a stranger."

"If she is that sort of girl," he said decidedly, "she would at least
want to meet and talk with the man who saw the last of her father. No,
there's something else in it, and I think that I ought to find her.
Don't you?"

She hesitated.

"I'm afraid I can't advise you," she said; "only if she has taken so
much pains to remain unknown, I am not sure--I think that if I were you
I would assume that she has good reason for it."

"I can see no good reason," he said, "and there is a mystery behind it
which I fancy would be better cleared up. Some day I will tell you more
about it."

Evidently Ernestine was weary of the subject, for she suddenly changed
it. She led him on to talk of other things. When at last he glanced at
the clock he was horrified to see how long he had stayed.

"You'll remember, I hope, Miss Wendermott," he said, "that this is the
first afternoon call I've ever paid. I've no idea how long I ought to
have stayed, but certainly not two hours."

"The time has passed quickly," she said, smiling upon him, so that his
momentary discomfort passed away. "I have been very interested in the
stories of your past, Mr. Trent, but do you know I am quite as much
interested, more so even, in your future."

"Tell me what you mean," he asked.

"You have so much before you, so many possibilities. There is so much
that you may gain, so much that you may miss."

He looked puzzled.

"I have a lot of money," he said. "That's all! I haven't any friends
nor any education worth speaking of. I don't see quite where the
possibilities come in."

She crossed the room and came over close to his side, resting her arm
upon the mantelpiece. She was still wearing her walking-dress, prim and
straight in its folds about her tall, graceful figure, and her hair,
save for the slight waviness about the forehead, was plainly dressed.
There were none of the cheap arts about her to which Trent had become
accustomed