"Certainly not," said Uredale, with a sigh. "I saw one of the trustees--Jack Underwood--yesterday. He told me Blanche and the child were more infatuated than ever. Very likely what one hears is a pack of lies. If not, I hope this woman will have the good taste to drop it. Father has charged me to write to Blanche and tell her the whole story of poor Rose, and of this girl's revealing herself. Blanche, it appears, is just as much in the dark as we were."
"If this gossip has got round to her, her feelings will be mixed. Oh, well, I've great faith in the money," said Bill Chantrey, carelessly, as they began to mount the stairs again. "It sounds disgusting; but if the child wants him I suppose she must have him. And, anyway, the man's off to Africa for a twelvemonth at least. Miss Le Breton will have time to forget him. One can't say that either he or she has behaved with delicacy--unless, indeed, she knew nothing of Aileen, which is quite probable."
"Well, don't ask me to tackle her," said Uredale. "She has the ways of an empress."
Bill Chantrey shrugged his shoulders. "And, by George! she looks as if she could fall in love," he said, slowly. "Magnificent eyes, Johnnie. I propose to make a study of our new niece."
"Lord Uredale!" said a voice on the stairs.
The young doctor descended rapidly to meet them.
"His lordship is asking for some one," he said. "He seems excited. But I cannot catch the name."
Lord Uredale ran up-stairs.
Later in the day a man emerged from Lackington House and walked rapidly towards the Mall. It was Jacob Delafield.