ye will take his proper and
rightful place amongst his own people."

"I'm exceedingly glad to hear it," said Brereton, with a smile at the
big man, who continued to watch Avice as if his thoughts were with her
rather than with his solicitor's story. "But--you'll understand that I'd
like to know how all this affects my client?"

"Ye--yes!" said Mr. Wraythwaite, hastily. "Tell Mr. Brereton,
Carfax--never mind me and my affairs--get on to poor Harborough."

"Your affair and Harborough's are inextricably mixed, my dear sir,"
retorted Carfax, good-humouredly. "I'm coming to the mingling of them.
Well," he continued, addressing himself again to Brereton. "This is how
things are--or were. I must tell you that the eldest brother of the late
Squire of Wraye married John Harborough's aunt--secretly. They had not
been married long before the husband emigrated. He went off to
Australia, leaving his wife behind until he had established
himself--there had been differences between him and his family, and he
was straitened in means. In his absence our friend here was born--and at
the same time, sad to say, his mother died. The child was brought up by
Harborough's mother--Mr. Wraythwaite and Harborough are foster-brothers.
It remained in the care of Harborough's mother--who kept the secret of
the marriage--until it was seven years old. Then, opportunity occurring,
it was taken to its father in Australia. The father, Matthew
Wraythwaite, made a big fortune in Australia, sheep-farming. He never
married again, and the fortune, of course, came at his death to his
only son--our friend. Now, he had been told of the secret marriage of
his father, but, being possessed of an ample fortune himself, he
concerned himself little about the rest of the old family. However, a
year or so ago, happening to read in the newspapers about the death of
the old Squire, his uncle, and the difficulty of definitely deciding the
real heirship, he came over to England. But he had no papers relating to
his father's marriage, and he did not know where it had taken place. At
that time he had not consulted me--in fact, he had consulted no one. If
he had consulted me," continued Carfax, with a knowing wink at Brereton,
"we should have put him right in a few hours. But he kept off
lawyers--and he sought out the only man he could remember--his
foster-brother, Harborough. And by Harborough's advice, they met
secretly. Harborough did not know where that marriage had taken