admirer; driving towards the excitement of political
contest, perhaps towards a seat in Parliament, and who could say what
subsequent distinctions. Lady Ogram was not the woman to aid
half-heartedly where her feelings were interested. Pretty surely he
could count upon large support, so long as he did not disappoint his
benefactress. For the present he had no anxieties--thanks to another
woman, of whom, in truth, he thought scarcely once in twenty-four
hours. He lived at ease; his faculties were expanding under this genial
sunshine of prosperity. Even in aspect he was a man of more importance
than a few weeks ago; his cheeks had coloured, his eyes rested with a
new dignity on all they saw.

They returned, and as Lady Ogram was entering the hall, a servant made
a respectful announcement.

"Mr. Kerchever is here, my lady."

"Mr. Kerchever? Indeed?"

With an unusually quick step, the old lady moved towards the library.
There, occupied with a newspaper, sat a man whose fifty years still
represented the prime of life, a tall, athletically-built man, his
complexion that of a schoolboy after summer holidays, his brown hair
abundant and crisp, spring and stay declared in every muscle of his
limbs and frame. Lightly he arose, gracefully he swung forward, with
the bow and smile of one who knows not constraint. Mr. Kerchever
followed the law, but he also, whenever a chance offered, followed the
hounds, and with more gusto. At school and University he had won palms;
that his place in academic lists was less glorious mattered little to
one who had a comfortable seat awaiting him in the paternal office.

"And what brings you here?" asked Lady Ogram, unable to subdue an
agitation which confused her utterance.

"I have made a discovery which will interest you," replied Mr.
Kerchever, in a voice which sounded very strong and melodious by
contrast.

"What is it? Don't keep me waiting."

"I have found a grand-daughter of your brother Joseph Tomalin."

The listener drew a deep, tremulous sigh.

"Can't you go on?" she exclaimed, thickly, just as the lawyer was
resuming.

"I'll tell you how I came upon her track--"

"I don't care anything about that!" cried the old lady, with violent
irritation. "_What_ is she? _Where_ is she?"

"Miss May Tomalin is twenty-five years old. Her parents are dead. She
lives with relatives of her mother in the town of Northampton. She has
been well educated, well brought up altogether, and has a l