With an unusually quick step, the old lady moved towards the library.

There, occupied with a newspaper, sat a man whose fifty years still represented the prime of life, a tall, athletically-built man, his complexion that of a schoolboy after summer holidays, his brown hair abundant and crisp, spring and stay declared in every muscle of his limbs and frame. Lightly he arose, gracefully he swung forward, with the bow and smile of one who knows not constraint. Mr. Kerchever followed the law, but he also, whenever a chance offered, followed the hounds, and with more gusto. At school and University he had won palms; that his place in academic lists was less glorious mattered little to one who had a comfortable seat awaiting him in the paternal office.

"And what brings you here?" asked Lady Ogram, unable to subdue an agitation which confused her utterance.

"I have made a discovery which will interest you," replied Mr.

Kerchever, in a voice which sounded very strong and melodious by contrast.

"What is it? Don't keep me waiting."

"I have found a grand-daughter of your brother Joseph Tomalin."

The listener drew a deep, tremulous sigh.

"Can't you go on?" she exclaimed, thickly, just as the lawyer was resuming.

"I'll tell you how I came upon her track--"

"I don't care anything about that!" cried the old lady, with violent irritation. "_What_ is she? _Where_ is she?"

"Miss May Tomalin is twenty-five years old. Her parents are dead. She lives with relatives of her mother in the town of Northampton. She has been well educated, well brought up altogether, and has a little income--about a hundred a year."

Again Lady Ogram drew a deep breath. Her face was hotly flushed; her hands trembled; a great joy shone from the transformed countenance.

"Thank goodness!" broke from her hoa.r.s.ely. "Thank goodness!" Then, with sudden alarm, "I suppose you're making no idiotic mistake?"

"That kind of mistake, Lady Ogram," responded Mr. Kerchever with a tolerant motion of the eyebrows, "is not quite in my way. Indeed, I'm not in the habit of making mistakes of any kind. You may be sure I have taken every precaution before coming here with such news as this."

"All right! What are you angry about? Lawyers and doctors and parsons--there's no talking with them, they're so touchy. Can't you go on? Here's a girl falls out of the clouds, and I'm to show no curiosity about her! You drive me crazy with your roundabout nonsense. Go _on_, can't you!"

Mr. Kerchever eyed his client curiously. He was not offended, for he had known Lady Ogram long, and had received traditions regarding her from a time before he was born; but he could not help being struck just now with her face and manner; they made him uneasy.

"I will tell you everything forthwith," he resumed, "but I must beg you to control yourself, Lady Ogram. I do so out of regard for your health.

Emotion is natural, but, now that you know the news is all good, your excellent sense should tranquillise you. Pray let us talk quietly."

Lady Ogram glanced at him, but nodded acquiescence.

"I'm as cool as you are. Talk as much as you like."

"A few days ago I had occasion to look through the lists of a London University Calendar. My eye fell on the name Tomalin, and of course I was interested. May Tomalin matriculated at London three years ago. I could find no further record of her, but inquiries were easy, and they guided me to Northampton. There I made the acquaintance of a Mr. Rooke, a manufacturer, in whose house Miss Tomalin is resident, and has been for a good many years; to be precise, since she was nine years old.

Without trouble I discovered the girl's history. Her grandfather, Joseph Tomalin, died in Canada forty-seven years ago--"

"How do you know it was Jo--my brother?" asked the listener, sharply.

"All these things you can follow out for yourself in detail in the papers I will leave with you. This Joseph had a brother Thomas, and his age corresponds very well with that of your own brother Joseph. Thomas Tomalin has left no trace, except the memory of his name preserved by the wife of Joseph, and handed on to her son, who, in turn, spoke of Thomas to his wife, who has been heard by Mrs. Rooke (her sister) to mention that fact in the family history. What is more, I find a vague tradition that a sister of Joseph and Thomas made a brilliant marriage."

"How is it that your advertis.e.m.e.nts were never seen by these people--these Rookes?"

"So it happened, that's all one can say. I have known many such failures. May Tomalin was born at Toronto, where he? father, also a Joseph, died in '80. Her mother, an Englishwoman, came back to England in '81, bringing May, the only child; she settled at Northampton, and, on her death in the following year, May pa.s.sed into the care of the Rookes. She has no surviving relative of her own name. Her father, a builder, left a little money, which now provides the young lady with her income."

Prom a state of choleric flurry Lady Ogram was pa.s.sing into irritable delight.

"Better late than never," she exclaimed, "but I can't see why you didn't find the girl ages ago. Haven't you advertised in Canada?"

"No. We knew that your brothers went to Australia. Thomas, no doubt, died there. The story of Joseph's wanderings is irrecoverable; we must be content to have satisfactory evidence of his death, and of this girl's descent from him."

"Well, and why haven't you brought her?"

"I saw no need for such precipitancy. Miss Tomalin has not yet been informed of what is going on. Of course, she is her own mistress, free to accept any invitation that may be offered her. The Rookes seem to be quiet people, in easy circ.u.mstances; no trouble of any kind is to be feared from them. You may act at your leisure. Here is the address. Of course if you would like me to return to Northampton--"

"She must come at once!" said Lady Ogram, starting up. "Would the Crows understand a telegram?"

"The Rookes, you mean? I think it would be better to write. Naturally, I have not let them know your name. At first I found Mr. Rooke rather disposed to stand upon his dignity; but a firm of Northampton solicitors vouched for my _bona fides_, and then things were smoother.

No, I don't think I would telegraph."

"Then go to Northampton, and bring the girl back with you."

"If you wish it."

"When is there a train?--Oh, there's the luncheon bell. Of course you must eat. Come and eat. I have some one staying here that I should like you to know our Liberal candidate at the next election."

"Oh, so you have found one?"

"Of course I have. Didn't I write to tell you? A lot of people dine here this evening to meet him. Perhaps you could stay over night? Yes, now I come to think of it, I should like you to dine with us. You shall go to Northampton to-morrow. Write to Rooky this afternoon." Lady Ogram grew sportive. "Prepare him. Come along, now, to lunch; you look hungry."

"Just one word. You are quite sure it will be wise to bring this young lady at once to Rivenoak?"

"You say she knows how to behave herself!"

"Certainly. But the change in her position will be rather sudden, don't you think? And--if I may venture--how can you be sure that Miss Tomalin will recommend herself to you?"

"Isn't she of my own blood?" cried Lady Ogram, in a high croak of exasperation. "Isn't she my brother's grandchild--the only creature of my own blood living?"

"I merely urge a little prudence--"

"Is the girl a fool?"

"I have no reason to think so. But she has led a quiet, provincial life--"

"Come and eat!" cried Lady Ogram. "We'll talk again afterwards."

Mrs. Toplady joined them in the dining-room, as she seated herself.

"Everybody's late to-day. Mr. Kerchever--Mr. Lashmar I want you to know each other. Mr. Lashmar, what have you been doing all the morning? Why, of course you had a drive with me--I had forgot ten! Do sit down and let us eat. If everyone's as hungry as I am!"

For all that, she satisfied her appet.i.te with one or two mouthfuls, and talked on in a joyously excited strain, to the astonishment of Constance, who saw that Mr. Kerchever must have brought some very important news. Lashmar, also exhilarated, kept up conversation with Mrs. Toplady. It was a vivacious company, Miss Bride being the only person who spoke little. She was commonly silent amid general talk, but her eyes travelled from face to face, reading, commenting.

Mr. Kerchever consented to stay over night. In the afternoon he had a stroll with Lashmar, but they did not much enjoy each other's society; Dyce took no interest whatever in sports or games, and the athletic lawyer understood by politics a recurring tussle between two parties, neither of which had it in its power to do much good or harm to the country; of philosophy and science (other than that of boxing) he knew about as much as the woman who swept his office. Privately, Mr.

Kerchever opined that this young man was a conceited pedant, who stood no chance whatever of being elected to Parliament. When questioned by Lady Ogram, he inquired whether Mr. Lashmar had means.