“Yes, I know everything,” said the lawyer, with a very searching look.
“Then my cousin, sir—she has always been spoken of in letters as my cousin, though no relation.”
The lawyer raised his eyebrows a little.
“I am, of course, under the circumstances, anxious to meet her.”
“May I ask under what circumstances, sir?”
“I understood you to say you knew everything, sir. We are betrothed—Miss Gertrude Bellwood is to be my wife.”
Both started, for at that moment Gertrude, whom Mrs Hampton had been unable to restrain, stood in the doorway, with the old lady at her elbow.
She took a couple of steps forward, gazing wildly in the frank, handsome face before her—a face which lit up with satisfaction as it encountered the earnest gaze of the young girl.
“Are you Gertrude?” he exclaimed, advancing with extended hands.
“Stop?” said the old lawyer, interposing, as he tried to master the difficulties of his position. “You will excuse me, sir, but you come here an utter stranger. You are, you say, Mr George Harrington.”