"Sir Simon is not your uncle," said Beryl, jealously. "You are only a distant relative."

"Perhaps my marriage with you may make me a nearer one."

"If we ever do marry," said Julius, gloomily.

"So far as I am concerned I should like to break the engagement, Julius. We were never suited to one another."

Beryl's vanity was hurt. "Why did you accept me then?"

"What else could I do? It was Sir Simon's wish that we should marry, and, owing to my circumstances, I had no choice in the matter. During his life I was merely a puppet. But you do not care for me."

"I do. I swear I do."

"Although you swore for an hour, I should never believe you. There is only one thing in this world you love, Julius, and that is money. You told Sir Simon about Bernard being in love with Alice, that the poor boy might be disinherited."

Beryl did not deny the charge. "I believe you are in love with Bernard yourself," he said.

"No. Bernard and I are like brother and sister. But he is dead, so you need not cast stones at his memory."