Miss Cayley's Adventures

by Grant Allen

'My lud,' the Q.C. said, in his blandest voice, 'I am striving to suggest to the jury that this lady—the only person who ever beheld this so-called will till Mr. Harold Tillington—described in its terms as "Younger of Gledcliffe," whatever that may be—produced it out of his uncle's desk— I am striving to suggest that this lady is—my duty to my client compels me to say—an adventuress.'

He had uttered the word. I felt my character had not a leg left to stand upon before a British jury.

'I went there with my friend, Miss Petheridge——' I began.

'Oh, Miss Petheridge once more—you hunt in couples?'

'Accompanied and chaperoned by a married lady, the wife of a Major Balmossie, on the Bombay Staff Corps.'

'That was certainly prudent. One ought to be chaperoned. Can you produce the lady?'

'How is it possible?' I cried. 'Mrs. Balmossie is in India.'

'Yes; but the Maharajah, I understand, is in London?'

'That is true,' I answered.

'And he came to meet you on your arrival yesterday.'