"You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. But it does not sound as if the girl that wears the name resembles either of her parents. "I do," replied Jack, carelessly. She could not apply it in this instance because she was not sure the application would be correct. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me. “I thought I was just up against Morningside Park and father, but it’s the whole order of things—the whole blessed order of things. "In the hall," replied Charcam. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. ’ ‘Which is exactly what started us off,’ Gerald said to his friend with a grin, as he gave up his injured hand to the other’s ministrations. “I was surprised, I admit,” he said. Least of all myself.
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