"And who was Mrs. Ros...o...b..?"

"I didn't know at the time, of course--I only knew she was Mrs. Ros...o...b...

But Mr. Ashton told me, not long before his death, who she was. She was the widow of some government official, and she was returning to England in consequence of his death. So she took charge of me and brought me over. She used to visit me regularly at school, every week, and I used to spend my holidays with her until she died."

"Ah!" said Mr. Carless. "She is dead?"

"She died two years ago," answered Miss Wickham.

"I wish she had been living," observed Mr. Carless, with a glance at Mr.

Pawle. "I should have liked to see Mrs. Ros...o...b... Well," he continued, turning to Miss Wickham, "so Mrs. Ros...o...b.. brought you to England, to school. What school?"

"Ryedene School."

"Ryedene! That's one of the most expensive schools in England, isn't it?"

"I don't know. I--perhaps it is."

"I happen to know it is," said Mr. Carless dryly. "Two of my clients have daughters there, now. I've seen their bills! Do you know who paid yours?"

"No," she answered, "I don't know. Mr. Ashton, I suppose."

"You had everything you wanted, I dare say! Clothes, pocket-money, and so on?"

"I've always had everything I wanted," replied Miss Wickham.

"And you were at Ryedene twelve years?"

"Except for the holidays--yes."

"You must be a very learned young lady," suggested Mr. Carless.

Miss Wickham looked round the circle of attentive faces.

"I can play tennis and hockey very well," she said, smiling a little.

"And I wasn't bad at cricket the last season or two--we played cricket there. But I'm not up to much at anything else, except that I can talk French decently."

"Physical culture, eh?" observed Mr. Carless, smiling. "Very well! Now, then, in the end Mr. Ashton came home to England, and of course came to see you, and in due course you left school, and came to his house in Markendale Square, where he got a Mrs. Killenhall to look after you. All that correct? Yes? Well, then, I think, from what Mr. Pawle tells me, Mr. Ashton handed over a lot of money to you, and told you it had been left to you, or left in his charge for you, by your father? That is correct too? Very well. Now, did Mr. Ashton never tell you anything much about your father?"

"No, he never did. Beyond telling me that my father was an Englishman who had gone out to Australia and settled there, he never told me anything.

But," here Miss Wickham paused and hesitated for a while, "I have an idea," she continued in the end, "that he meant to tell me something--what, I, of course, don't know. He once or twice--hinted that he would tell me something, some day."

"You didn't press him?" suggested Mr. Carless.

"I don't think I am naturally inquisitive," replied Miss Wickham. "I certainly did not press him. I knew he'd tell me, whatever it was, in his own way."

"One or two other questions," said Mr. Carless. "Do you know who your mother was?"

"Only that she was some one whom my father met in Australia."

"Do you know what her maiden name was?"

"No, only her Christian name; that was Catherine. She and my father are buried together."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "That is something else I was going to ask.

You know where they are buried?"

"Oh, yes! Because, before we sailed, Mrs. Ros...o...b.. took me to the churchyard, or cemetery, to see my father's and mother's grave. I remembered that perfectly. Her own husband was buried there too, close by. I remember how we both cried."

Mr. Carless suddenly pointed to the ornament which Miss Wickham was wearing.

"Will you take that off, and let me look at it?" he asked. "Thank you,"

he said, as she somewhat surprisedly obeyed. "I believe," he continued, as he quietly pa.s.sed the ornament to Lord Ellingham, "that Mr. Ashton gave you this and told you it had belonged to your father? Just so!

Well," he concluded, handing the ornament back, "I think that's all. Much obliged to you, Miss Wickham. You won't understand all this, but you will, later. Now, one of my clerks will get you a car, and we'll escort you down to it."

"No," said Lord Ellingham, promptly jumping to his feet. "Allow me--I'm youngest. If Miss Wickham will let me--"

The two young people went out of the room together, and the three men left behind looked at each other. There was a brief and significant silence.

"Well, Carless?" said Mr. Pawle at last. "How now?"

"'Pon my honour," answered Mr. Carless, "I shouldn't wonder if you're right!"

CHAPTER XX

SURPRISING READINESS

Mr. Pawle made a gesture which seemed to denote a certain amount of triumphant self-satisfaction.

"I'm sure I'm right!" he exclaimed. "You'll find out that I'm right! But there's a tremendous lot to do, Carless. If only that unfortunate man, Ashton, had lived, he could have cleared this matter up at once. I feel convinced that he possessed papers which would have proved this girl's claim beyond dispute. Those papers, of course--"

"Now, what particular papers are you thinking of?" interrupted Mr.

Carless.

"Well," replied Mr. Pawle, "such papers as proofs of her father's marriage, and of her own birth. According to what she told us just now, her father was married in Australia, and she herself was born there.

There must be doc.u.mentary proof of that."

"Her father was probably married under his a.s.sumed name of Wickham,"

observed Mr. Carless. "You'll have to prove that Wickham and Lord Marketstoke were identical--were one and the same person. The fact is, Pawle, if this girl's claim is persisted in, there'll have to be a very searching inquiry made in Australia. However much I may feel that your theory may be--probably is--right, I should have to advise my client, Lord Ellingham, to insist on the most complete investigation."

"To be sure, to be sure!" a.s.sented Mr. Pawle. "That's absolutely necessary. But my own impression is that as we get into the secret of Ashton's murder, as I make no doubt we shall, there will be more evidence forthcoming. Now, as regards this man, whoever he is, who claims to be the missing Lord Marketstoke--"

At that moment a clerk entered the room and glanced at Mr. Carless.

"Telephone message from Methley and Woodlesford, sir," he announced. "Mr.

Methley's compliments, and if agreeable to you, he can bring his client on to see you this afternoon--at once, if convenient."