"No; a stock-broker's wife, Mrs. Braham. Why, she is a known beauty."

That was enough for Monckton. He hung back a little, and followed the carriage. He calculated that if it left the Park at Hyde Park corner, or the Marble Arch, he could take a hansom and follow it.

When the victoria got clear of the crowd at the corner, Mrs. Braham leaned forward a moment and whispered a word to her coachman. Instantly the carriage dashed at the Chesterfield Gate and into Mayfair at such a swift trot that there was no time to get a cab and keep it in sight.

Monckton lighted a cigarette. "Clever girl!" said he, satirically. "She knew me, and never winked."

The next day he went to the lawyer and said, "I have a little favor to ask you, sir."

The lawyer was on his guard directly, but said nothing.

"An interview--in this office--with Mrs. Braham."

The lawyer winced, but went on his guard again directly.

"Client of ours?"

"Yes, sir."

"Braham? Braham?" said the lawyer, affecting to search the caverns of professional memory.

"Stock-broker's wife."

"Where do they live?"

"What! don't you know? Place of _business_--Threadneedle Street. Place of _bigamy_--Portman Square."

"I have no authority to grant a personal interview with any such person."

"But you have no power to hinder one, and it is her interest the meeting should take place here, and the stock-broker be out of it."

The lawyer reflected.

"Will you promise me it shall be a friendly interview? You will never go to her husband?"

"Her stock-broker, you mean. Not I. If she comes to me here when I want her."

"Will that be often?"

"I think not. I have a better card to play than Mrs. Braham. I only want her to help me to find certain people. Shall we say twelve o'clock to-morrow?"

The lawyer called on Mrs. Braham, and after an agitated and tearful interview, persuaded her to keep the appointment.

"Consider," said he, "what you gain by making our office the place of meeting. Establish that at once. It's a point of defense."

The meeting took place in the lawyer's private room, and Mrs. Braham was so overcome that she nearly fainted. Then she was hysterical, and finally tears relieved her.

When she came to this point, Monckton, who had looked upon the whole exhibition as a mere preliminary form observed by females, said,

"Come, Lucy, don't be silly. I am not here to spoil your little game, but to play my own. The question is, will you help me to make my fortune?"

"Oh, that I will, if you will not break up my home."

"Not such a fool, my dear. Catch me killing a milk-cow! You give me a percentage on your profits, and I'm dumb."

"Then all you want is more money?"

"That is all; and I shall not want that in a month's time."

"I have brought 100, Leonard," she said, timidly.

"Sensible girl. Hand it over."

Two white hands trembled at the strings of a little bag, and took out ten crisp notes.

Leonard took them with satisfaction.

"There," said he. "This will last me till I have found Bartley and Hope, and made my fortune."

"Hope!" said Mrs. Braham. "Oh, pray keep clear of him! Pray don't attack _him_ again. He is such an able man!"

"I will not attack him again to be defeated. Forewarned, forearmed.

Indeed, if I am to bleed Bartley, I don't know how I can be revenged on Hope. _That is the cruel thing_. But don't you trouble about my business, Lucy, unless," said he, with a sneer, "you can tell me where to find them, and so save me a lot of money."

"Well, Leonard," said Lucy, "it can't be so very hard to find Hope. You know where that young man lives that you--that I--"

"Oh, Walter Clifford! Yes, of course I know where _he_ lives. At Clifford Hall, in Derbyshire."

"Well, Leonard, Hope saved him from prison, and ruined you. That young man had a good heart. He would not forget such a kindness. He may not know where Mr. Bartley lives, but surely he will know where Hope is."

"Lucy," said Leonard, "you are not such a fool as you were. It is a chance, at all events. I'll go down to that neighborhood directly. I'll have a first-rate disguise, and spy about, and pick up all I can."

"And you will never say anything or do anything to--Oh, Leonard, I'm a bad wife. I never can be a good one now to anybody. But I'm a good mother; and I thought G.o.d had forgiven me, when he sent me my little angel. You will never ruin his poor mother, and make her darling blush for her!"

"Curse me if I do!" said Leonard, betrayed into a moment's warmth. But he was soon himself again. "There," said he, "I'll leave the little bloke my inheritance. Perhaps you don't know I'm heir to a large estate in Westmoreland; no end of land, and half a lake, _and only eleven lives between the estate and me_. I will leave my 'great expectations' to that young bloke. What's his Christian name?"

"Augustus."

"And what's his father's name?"

"Jonathan."

Leonard then left all his property, real and personal, and all that should ever accrue to him, to Augustus Braham, son of Jonathan Braham, and left Lucy Braham sole executrix and trustee.

Then he hurried into the outer office, signed this doc.u.ment, and got it witnessed. The clerks proposed to engross it.

"What for?" said he. "This is the strongest form. All in the same handwriting as the signature; forgery made easy are your engrossed wills."

He took it in to Mrs. Braham, and read it to her, and gave it her. He meant it all as a joke; he read it with a sneer. But the mother's heart over-flowed. She put it in her bosom, and kissed his hand.