"Oh, you've done all in your power to make your Circa.s.sian a saleable article, I admit."

"Circa.s.sian! what does the girl mean?"

"Simply that I have been fed and dressed and pampered just like a Circa.s.sian for the Sultan's harem."

"Harem!" shrieked Mrs. Marsh. "Hilda, you positively shock me! Where do you learn such language?"

"I shock myself when I think of myself, mother. They sell Circa.s.sians in Turkey, and what do you and father intend to do with me--what have you always intended to do with me--but sell me to the highest bidder? Simply because it turns out now that Major Dundas has this money I am to be put on the market for his inspection. A little while ago I should not have minded--I did not mind; but now, oh!"--she was on her feet by this time and white with anger--"it is too degrading to be treated like a bale of goods. You think nothing of my heart--of my feelings. I believe you would throw me gladly into the arms of the Prince of Darkness himself if he was rich enough. I hate you both for it, and I hate myself, and--and I won't stand it! I won't!" And the wretched girl, unable to contain herself, ran out of the room. For she had discovered for the first time that she could feel, and her feelings had been touched, and all the training of past years was powerless to prevent a little outburst of nature.

The parents looked significantly at one another. This their first taste of Hilda, the matured woman, did not augur well. If rendered obstinate and driven into a corner, she was quite capable of destroying all their fine aerial edifices, and of marrying Gerald in spite of them. The doctor looked round at the untidy room, at the ill-appointed table, and thought of his many debts and small income, and incessant endeavours to make two refractory ends meet. And his brow grew dark at the thought, and he struck the table again.

"She shall not marry that pauper," he cried fiercely, "she shall marry Dundas. He'll turn to her right enough now that the Crane woman is out of the way. Cheer up, Amelia, we shall see Hilda at the Manor House yet."

But the wife of his bosom was not thus to be comforted.

"Any day the will might be found," she suggested, rather timidly.

"It won't be found. Search has been made in every hole and corner. There isn't a doubt but the blackguard who murdered the old man carried it off. And he daren't produce it again, you see, even as a means of blackmail, without risk of putting his head in a noose."

"Oh, George, you don't think the man is at large--you don't think he's about here, do you?"

"How the devil do I know where he is. There's not much doubt about his being at large I should say, seeing it's now three weeks since the funeral, and the police haven't progressed an inch. Prince told me they had a clue, and traced it to Liverpool, but there it ended. The man's got away safe enough."

"Perhaps it wasn't a man, George!"

"Of course it was. You don't suppose a woman would have had the strength to strangle Barton, do you? The thing was done deliberately, I tell you--by his friend, most likely."

Mrs. Marsh squeaked again.

"His friend, George?"

The doctor nodded.

"I was talking over the matter with Prince," he said, "and he agrees with me that the a.s.sa.s.sin was known to Barton. If you remember the window was open. Well, Barton must have opened it to admit his visitor, whoever he was. They talked about the will, no doubt, and Barton probably produced it. While he was reading it, or some clause from it, his good friend must have slipped a scarf or a rope or something of the kind round his neck, and the thing was done. I don't suppose he uttered as much as a cry."

"But what could anyone want with the will, George?"

"Ah! that's more than I can tell you. There's nothing in the will itself to help us there, although Dundas let me read the original draft: the lawyer brought it down to show him. You see, Barton," here the doctor shook his head and looked exceeding wise, "Barton was a queer customer, and what's more, he knew all manner of other customers a good deal more queer even than himself. Those journeys of his to London brought him into contact with a heap of rascality. I shouldn't be surprised if some of his slum friends had polished him off. But, as I say, whoever he is, the a.s.sa.s.sin can never produce the will. It is gone, Amelia, and you can take my word for it, it will never turn up again. Dundas will remain in possession of the Manor House for his time. So Hilda will be perfectly safe in marrying him."

"But Hilda says he is in love with Miss Crane!"

"Stuff and nonsense. Don't I tell you she's gone away? Besides, Mrs.

Darrow'll soon stop anything in that direction. She's only got to tell Dundas a little of what she knows about this precious Miriam creature."

Mrs. Marsh was alive with curiosity.

"Oh, George, what does she know?"

"Can't say; but I gather it's something by no means to Miss Crane's credit. More than that I couldn't get out of her. But I can tell you that if Dundas shapes that way, Mrs. Darrow will make him open his eyes pretty wide, though I don't believe myself Dundas even knows where the woman is. She seems to have vanished like a drop of water in the ocean of London. Take my word for it, he'll stay here, my dear, and helped by Mrs. Darrow our little girl will before long be occupying her proper place at the Manor House."

"And Gerald?"

"I'll settle him. He's coming here to see me this morning. I sent for him directly I heard of this affair. It's got to be cut root and branch, Amelia, for I tell you what it is, if we don't get money soon from somewhere, the bailiffs'll be in the house; so now you know!"

Indeed, poor Mrs. Marsh had cause to know; she had already quite a bowing acquaintance with the shabby personality of the man in possession. With terror in her heart at the mention of him, she hurried upstairs to her daughter, whilst the doctor, in his character of Roman father, remained behind. The dining-room was not only untidy, but peculiarly shabby, and for that reason he had decided that it was especially well adapted for his interview with Gerald. Surrounded thus by the undeniable evidences of his poverty, he hoped the better to drive his very trenchant remarks well home. Indeed, he was antic.i.p.ating his lecture with no little pleasure, for if there was one thing upon which Doctor Marsh prided himself more than another, it was his oratorical powers, and the present he judged an admirable opportunity for exhibiting them.

Gerald made his appearance with the air of a man about to be hanged. He guessed well enough why Marsh wished to see him, but even in his dejection he was resolved upon making a fight of it. He had lost his inheritance, but he was determined, in his weak, mulish way, that he would not lose Hilda. And he was depending no little upon the girl herself helping him, if indeed she had not done so already. But in this he was destined to disappointment. Miss Marsh, in spite of her recent little outburst, was not the young lady to defy the world and console herself with love in a cottage. By no means; the tree must grow as the twig is bent, and although at first she had been a good deal disturbed at finding out the nature of her own feelings, it was not long before she returned to her old self, and the conclusion that in the existing circ.u.mstances Gerald Arkel was not for her, nor she for Gerald Arkel.

Poor fond lover--his very moustache drooped with melancholy!

"Sir," began the Roman father, for the younger man left him to open the ball, "I am astonished and pained to learn that without my consent, that utterly unknown to me, you have had the audacity to engage yourself to my child; under such provocation I have no hesitation in saying that many a father would break off such a connection, root and branch, without vouchsafing reason of any kind. But I condemn no man unheard.

You will therefore perhaps grasp the opportunity I hold out to you to explain your--your part of this affair."

"I love her," said Gerald, sitting miserably on his chair, "and she loves me, and what's more, I shan't give her up."

"Sir! I need hardly say you astound me. But once again in justice I ask you if you are in a position to support my child?"

Gerald cast a cynical glance round the shabby room.

"I can give her a better home than this," he said sullenly.

At this the Roman father threw off his cla.s.sic yoke and took refuge in a more vehement and less stately method of expression.

"Confound you and your d.a.m.ned impudence, Mr. Arkel. What the devil do you mean by calling my house names? We are poor if you like, but honest--and that is more, yes, a d.a.m.ned deal more than you are."

"I am poor enough, I know, but----"

"I know that; you are a pauper--an absolute pauper, yet you have the brazen impudence to want my daughter to marry you!"

"I can work for her, I suppose?"

"No, sir, that's just what you can't do. Idle and dissipated you have always been, and idle and dissipated you always will be. Oh, I have heard of your goings-on in London, Mr. Arkel. You spent Barton's money freely while you had it, now you haven't got it, you are certainly not likely to make any for yourself."

"If the will is found----"

"Will!--found!--stuff and nonsense! Do you think the man who murdered your uncle for the sole purpose of stealing it is going to emerge from his hiding and make you a present of it? Don't be a fool, sir! Go and ask Dundas to give you a leg up, and try and do something to earn a pound a week. As to Hilda, put her out of your head."

By this time Gerald was almost beside himself.

"Mind your own business, Marsh," he shouted, jumping up. "I will not touch a penny of Dundas' money. But how I make my living, and what I decide to do, has nothing to do with you."

"Right! it hasn't. If I gave my consent to your marrying Hilda, it would have; as I decline to let my child throw herself away on a pauper, it hasn't. The best thing you can do is to quit this house and try and preserve your few scattered wits."

"You are beastly rude. But allow me to say that before I go I must hear what Hilda says," and with a very dogged look upon his face Master Gerald sat down.

"You will find that although Hilda has lapsed so far as to engage herself to you, she has still sufficient regard for the wishes of those in authority over her to obey them." The doctor was becoming cla.s.sic again. "However, you shall see her."

Again Gerald cast an ironical glance round the room, as though mutely inquiring if he could possibly take Hilda into surroundings more impoverished than those amid which she was at present. But Marsh ignored the look entirely, for the very good reason that its contention was irrefutable even by him. So he stalked away, leaving Gerald to gnaw his moustache, and curse the fate which had robbed him of his money and now threatened to rob him of "the only girl he ever loved."