"What has become of the two young Trevors?"
"One of them drowned near Ilfracombe the summer before last—the other in India."
"Can't you marry her to one of them?"
"Which?" asked Mr. Grey shortly, "they are both equally within my reach."
"I thought there was another—Alfred Trevor?"
"He is married already."
"And how old is the girl?"
"Seventeen, I told you."
"When did you close accounts with young Haveloc?"
"Last Christmas, didn't you know?"