"As you please," returned her ladys.h.i.+p.

"I should like to have just a word with my sister Theodora," said Richard.

"I doubt if she will see you.--Miss Malliver, will you take Mr. Tuke to the schoolroom, and then inquire whether Miss Lestrange is able to leave her room. You will stay with her; she is far from well.--Perhaps you had better go and inquire first. Mr. Tuke will wait you here."

Miss Malliver came from somewhere, and left the room.

Richard felt very angry: was he not to see his father's daughter except in the presence of that woman? But he said nothing.

"There is just one thing," resumed her ladys.h.i.+p, "upon which, if only out of respect to the feelings of my late husband, I feel bound to insist;--it is, that, while in this neighbourhood, you will be careful as to what company you show yourself in. You will not, I trust, pretend ignorance of my meaning, and cause me the pain of having to be more explicit!"

Richard was struck dumb with indignation--and remained dumb from the feeling that he could not condescend to answer her as she deserved. Ere he had half recovered himself, she had again resumed.

"If the t.i.tle were ceded to the property," she said, as if talking to herself, "it might be a matter for more material consideration."

"Did your ladys.h.i.+p address me?" said Richard.

"If you choose to understand what I mean.--But I speak with too much delicacy, I fear. Compensation it could be only by courtesy.--Suppose I referred to the court of chancery my grave doubts of your story?"

"My father has acknowledged me!"

"And repudiated;--sent you from the house--left you to pursue your trade--bequeathed you nothing! Everybody knows your father--my late husband, I mean--would risk anything for my annoyance, though, thank G.o.d, he dared not attempt to push injury beyond the grave!--he well knew the danger of that! Had he really believed you his son, do you imagine he would have left you penniless? Would he not have been rejoiced to put you over Mr. Lestrange's head, if only to wring the heart of his mother?"

"The proofs that satisfied him remain."

"The testimony, that is, of those most interested in the result--whose very case is a confession of felony!"

"A confession, if you will, that my own aunt was the nurse that carried me away--of which there are proofs."

"Has any one seen those proofs?"

"My father has seen them, lady Ann."

"You mean sir Wilton?"

"I do. He accepted them."

"Has he left any doc.u.ment to that effect?"

"Not that I know of."

"Who presented those proofs, as you call them?"

"I told sir Wilton where they had been hidden, and together we found them."

"Where?"

"In the room that was the nursery."

"Which you occupied for months while working at your trade in the house, and for weeks again before sir Wilton dismissed you!"

"Yes," answered Richard, who saw very well what she was driving at, but would not seem to understand before she had fully disclosed her intent.

"And where you had opportunity to place what you chose at your leisure!--Excuse me; I am only laying before you what counsel would lay before the court."

"You wish me to understand, I suppose, that you regard me as an impostor, and believe I put the things, for support of my aunt's evidence, where my father and I found them!"

"I do not say so. I merely endeavour to make you see how the court would regard the affair--how much appearances would be against you. At the same time, I confess I have all along had grave doubts of the story.

You, of course, may have been deceived as well as your father--I mean the late baronet, my husband; but in any case, I will not admit you to be what you call yourself, until you are declared such by the law of the land. I will, however, make a proposal to you--and no ungenerous one:--Pledge yourself to make no defence, if, for form's sake, legal proceedings should be judged desirable, and in lieu of the possible baronetcy--for I admit the bare possibility of the case, if tried, being given against us--I will pay you five thousand pounds. It would cost us less to try the case, no doubt, but the thing would at best be disagreeable.--Understand I do not speak without advice!"

"Plainly you do not!" a.s.sented Richard. "But," he continued, "let me place one thing before your ladys.h.i.+p: To do as you ask me, would be to indorse your charge against my father, that he acknowledged me, that is, he lied, to give you annoyance! That is enough. But I have the same objection in respect of my uncle and aunt, of whom you propose to make liars and conspirators!"

He turned to the door.

"You will consider it?" said her ladys.h.i.+p in her stateliest yet softest tone.

"I will. I shall continue to consider it the worst insult you could have offered my father, your late husband. Thank G.o.d, he was my mother's husband first!"

"What am I to understand by that?"

"Whatever your ladys.h.i.+p chooses, except that I will not hold any farther communication with you on the matter."

"Then you mean to dispute the t.i.tle?"

"I decline to say what I mean or do not mean to do."

Lady Ann rose to ring the bell.

Miss Malliver met Richard in the doorway. He turned.

"I am going to bid Theodora good-bye," he said.

"You shall do no such thing!" cried her ladys.h.i.+p.

Richard flew up the stair, and, believing Miss Malliver had not gone to his sister, went straight to her room.

The moment Theodora saw him, she sprang from the bed where she had lain weeping, and threw herself into his arms. He was the only one who had ever made her feel what a man might be to a woman! He told her he had come to bid her good-bye. She looked wild.

"But you're not going _really_--for altogether?" she said.

"My dear sister, what else can I do? n.o.body here wants me!"

"Indeed, Richard, _I_ do!"

"I know you do--and the time will come when you shall have me; but you would not have me live where I am not loved!"

"Richard!" she cried, with a burst of indignation, the first, I fancy, she had ever felt, or at least given way to, "you are the only gentleman in the family!"