"Whose dead mother, Florry's or Judith's?" asked Fanks, lightly.
"Florry's, of course," replied Roger, impatiently; "and Judith looked after her like the apple of her eye, though I'm afraid she had rather a hard task, for Miss Marson was one of those irritating girls who did all manner of things without thinking. She was engaged to marry a man called Spolger."
"Anything to do with 'Spolger's Soother, a Good Night's Rest'?"
"Yes; he's the owner."
"Oh! and frivolous Florry didn't like him."
"How do you know?" asked Roger, in a startled tone.
"Because I've seen Spolger's Soother, and he's not pretty enough for such an empty-headed minx as you describe Miss Marson."
"You are right. She was engaged to him by her father's desire, but she loved a scamp—good-looking, of course, with no money, and had been exiled to Ventnor to escape him."
"Eh! It's quite a romance," said Fanks, gaily. "What was the scamp's name?"
Roger fidgeted in his chair before replying, which action did not escape the lynx eyes of Mr. Fanks, who said nothing, but waited.