"Has the true heir appeared?" she asked; "and have you come to warn me to prepare for abdication?"
"How shrewd you are!" he said. But, in truth, he was much relieved that she was shrewd enough to divine the object of his visit,—a visit which it had required a considerable effort on his part to undertake. "The true heir—if you consider him so—has appeared; but there is no question of abdication for you. He will be very glad if you consent to compromise, and so save him a contest over the will."
She sat down in a chair conveniently near, looking a little pale. Notwithstanding her question, she had not really anticipated such positive assurance at once; and recognizing this, Mr. Singleton regretted having been so abrupt.
"I thought you expected it," he said; "but I see that you were not quite prepared. I am sorry—"
She put up her hand with a gesture which stopped his words. "There is nothing for which to be sorry," she said. "Of course I expected it, but perhaps not so immediately or so positively. But I don't mean to be foolish: I intend to be quite cool and business-like. Mr. George Singleton has arrived, then. Have you recognized him?"
"Perfectly. He has changed very little, considering all things, and there can be no question of his identity."
"Are the other members of the family, and friends of the family, as positive as yourself?"
"Yes: no one has a doubt but that it is George. In fact, no one could have a doubt who had ever known him. He was twenty years old when he went away, and of a very marked personal appearance. The change of sixteen years is by no means so great as might be imagined. Appearance, manner, habits—all prove that he is George himself. Indeed I must be quite frank and tell you that there is not even a peg on which to hang a doubt of his identity."
She looked at him for a moment in silence, her brow drawn together by the earnestness with which she seemed trying to read his face. At length she said, slowly: "I must trust your opinion; I have no one else to trust. And I do not think you would deceive me."
"I certainly would not," he answered, gravely. "Why should I? Putting honor aside, I have nothing to gain by espousing George Singleton's cause. As a matter of fact, I do not espouse it at all. I merely come to you as a friend, and tell you that he is certainly the man he claims to be. And, under these circumstances, I think your best plan will be to compromise with him as speedily as possible."