Gilly Jillingham lay back in his chair and mused for a while.
"It's not a bad game if the cards play true."
His evil genius, had he been present, might have hinted that sometimes the cards played for Mr. Jillingham a little too true.
"Not a bad game. Phillipa, how do you stand with this old beldame?"
"She pretends the most ardent affection for me."
"There are no other relatives, no one she would take up if this son gave unpardonable offence?"
"Not that I know of. Besides, she calls me her dear daughter already."
"And would adopt you, doubtless, if the cub were got out of the way. Yes, it can be done, I believe, and you can do it, Phillipa, if you please. Only persuade the old lady to make you the heiress of the Purlings, and there will be an end to your troubles—and mine."
Soon after this conversation Miss Fanshawe returned to Purlington. The heiress smothered her with caresses.
"I shall not let you go away again. We have missed you more than I can say."