"But surely Rupert Trevlyn inherited it on the death of his grandfather, Squire Trevlyn?"
"No, he didn't inherit it, sir. It was Chattaway."
So interested in the argument had the visitor become, that he neglected his plate, and was looking at Molly with astonished eyes. "Why did he not inherit it? He was the heir."
"It's what folks can't rightly make out," answered the woman. "Chattaway came in for it, that's certain. But folks have never called him the Squire, though he's as sick as a dog for it."
"Who is Mr. Chattaway? What is his connection with the Trevlyns? I forget."
"His wife was Miss Edith Trevlyn, the Squire's daughter. There was but three of 'em,—Mrs. Ryle, and her, and Miss Diana. Miss Diana was never married, and I suppose won't be now."
"Miss Diana?—Miss Diana? Yes, yes, I recollect," repeated the stranger. "It was Miss Diana whom Mrs. Trevlyn——Does Rupert Trevlyn live with Miss Diana?" he broke off again.
"Yes, sir; they all live at the Hold. The Chattaways, and Miss Diana, and young Mr. Rupert. Miss Diana has been out on a visit these two or three weeks past, but I heard this morning that she had come home."
"There was a pretty little girl—Maude—a year older than her brother," proceeded the questioner. "Where is she?"
"She's at the Hold, too, sir. They were brought to the Hold quite little babies, those two, and they have lived at it ever since, except when they've been at school. Miss Maude's governess to Chattaway's children."