“There can be no doubt about the matter,” said he. “One of the rings bears the motto and crest of the Ethalwoods; and, as far as I can judge at present, this portrait bears a close resemblance to Lord Ethalwood’s daughter.”
“Then my little protégée, my darling child, is——”
“The grand-daughter of a nobleman.”
Mrs. Maitland’s breath was almost taken away at this announcement.
“Wonderful—more than wonderful!” she ejaculated. “And is it possible that she has been left uncared for and unacknowledged all these years?”
Mr. Wrench shrugged his shoulders. “It would appear so,” he said, “but there are reasons for this my dear madam, very strong reasons. I suppose if I give you a receipt for these articles you will permit me to take them to Broxbridge Hall. I pledge you my word of honour, that, come what may, they shall be returned to you in the course of a few days.”
“Oh, indeed, I cannot do that.”
“I swear they shall be returned in a week.”
“I don’t like to part with them. If they should be lost.”
“They will not be lost. I will answer for that.”