"Sir," she said quietly, "this girl Jane has described the young man's looks who comes to see her."
"Well! well! well!"
"The young man—the soldier," said Mrs. Gilroy, with emphasis—"has come only since we arrived here. Jane met him a week before our arrival, and since we have been in the house this soldier has visited her often."
"What has all this to do with me?" asked Sir Simon.
"Because she described the looks of the soldier. Miss Randolph says he is an Imperial Yeoman."
Sir Simon started. "Has Miss Randolph seen him?" he asked.
"No. She only goes by what I said this morning to you. But the description, Sir Simon—" Here Mrs. Gilroy sank her voice to a whisper and looked around—"suits Mr. Gore."
"Bernard! Ah!" Sir Simon caught hold of a chair to steady himself. "Why—what—yes. Julius said he was an Imperial Yeoman and—"
"And he comes here to see the housemaid," said Mrs. Gilroy, nodding.
"To spy out the land," cried the baronet, in a rage. "Do you think that my grandson would condescend to housemaids? He comes to learn how I am disposed—if I am ill. The money—the money—all self—self—self!" He clenched his hand as the front door opened. "Good-bye, Mrs. Gilroy, if you see this Imperial Yeoman, say I am making a new will," and with a sneer Sir Simon went out.