ed themselves to a restaurant large enough to allow of
their conversing as they chose under cover of many noises. Gammon had
by this time made up his mind to a very bold step, a stratagem so
audacious that assuredly it deserved to succeed. Only despair could
have supplied him with such a suggestion and with the nerve requisite
for carrying it out.

"What about that will?" asked Polly, as soon as they were seated and
the order had been given.

"There is no will."

This answer, and the carelessness with which it was uttered, took away
Polly's breath. She glared, and unconsciously handled a table knife in
an alarming way.

"What d'you mean? Who are you kidding?"

"He's left no will. And what's more, if he had, your name wouldn't have
been in it, old girl."

"Oh, indeed! We'll soon see about that! I'll go straight from 'ere to
that 'ouse, see if I don't I'll see his sister for myself this very
night, so there!"

"Go it, Polly, you're welcome, my dear. You'll wake 'em up in Stanhope
Gardens."

The waiter interrupted their colloquy. Gammon began to eat; Polly,
heeding not the savoury dish, kept fierce eyes upon him.

"What d'you mean? Don't go stuffing like a pig but listen to me, and
tell me what you're up to."

"You're talking about Lord P., ain't you?" asked Gammon in a lower
voice.

"Course I am."

"And you think he was your uncle? So did I till a few days ago. Well,
Polly, he wasn't. Lord P. didn't know you from Adam, nor your aunt
either."

He chuckled, and ate voraciously. The artifice seemed to him better and
better, enjoyment of it gave him a prodigious appetite.

"If you'll get on with your eating I'll tell you about it. Do you
remember what I told you about the fellow Quodling in the City? Well,
listen to this. Lord P. had another brother knocking about--you
understand, a brother--like Quodling, who had no name of his own. And
this brother, Polly, is your uncle Clover."

Miss Sparkes did not fail to understand, but she at once and utterly
declined to credit the statement.

"You mean to say it wasn't Lord P. at all as I met--as I saw at the
theatre?"

"You saw his illegitimate brother, your uncle, and never Lord P. at
all. Now just listen. This fellow who called himself Clover is a
precious rascal. We don't know as much about him as we'd like to, but I
dare say we shall find out more. How did he come to be sitting with
those ladies in the theatre, you're wanting to ask? Simple enough.
Knowi