“She is no stranger to you. You know her already.”
“Alec, you trifle with me. I am an old man, and—and——
“Father, I am not trifling with you. On such a subject I would not for the world. What I said just now is the truth. Your granddaughter, under the name of Ethel Thursby, is known and liked by you already.”
“Ethel Thursby my granddaughter!”
“There cannot be a shadow of doubt about it.”
As before, Sir Gilbert sat in speechless amazement, but this time, if such a thing were possible, his amazement was intensified a hundredfold.
“It is indeed a ‘strange eventful history’ that I have to narrate to you,” resumed John Clare. “Would you rather that I put off telling it you till to-morrow, or——”
“Certainly not. There’s no time like the time present. Now that you have told me so much you must tell me all. I shall not sleep a wink to-night unless you do.”
Thus adjured, John Clare began the narrative with which the reader is acquainted.
Lady Pell and Ethel did not reach the Chase till after luncheon next day.