"I will not see her," exclaimed Mr. Dunbar; "I never heard Wilmot speak of any daughter. This woman is some impudent impostor, who wants to extort money out of me. I will not see her: let her be sent about her business."
The waiter hesitated.
"She is a very respectable-looking person, sir," he said; "she doesn't look anything like an impostor."
"Perhaps not!" answered Mr. Dunbar, haughtily; "but she is an impostor, for all that. Joseph Wilmot had no daughter, to my knowledge. Pray do not let me be disturbed about this business. I have suffered quite enough already on account of this man's death."
He sank back in his chair, and took up his newspaper as he finished speaking. His face was completely hidden behind the newspaper.
"Shall I go and speak to this girl?" asked Arthur Lovell.
"On no account! The girl is an impostor. Let her be sent about her business!"
The waiter left the room.
"Pardon me, Mr. Dunbar," said the young lawyer; "but if you will allow me to make a suggestion, as your legal adviser in this business, I would really recommend you to see this girl."
"Why?"