Egerton suddenly and sharply turned round in his chair—"If you have done with the Times, have the goodness to place it here."
Randal had just obeyed, when a knock at the street-door was heard, and presently Lord L'Estrange came into the room, with somewhat a quicker step, and somewhat a gayer mien than usual.
Audley's hand, as if mechanically, fell upon the newspaper—fell upon that part of the columns devoted to births, deaths, and marriages. Randal stood by, and noted; then, bowing to L'Estrange, left the room.
"Audley," said L'Estrange, "I have had an adventure since I saw you—an adventure that reopened the Past, and may influence my future."
"How?"
"In the first place, I have met with a relation of—of—the Avenels."
"Indeed! Whom—Richard Avenel?"
"Richard—Richard—who is he? Oh, I remember; the wild lad who went off to America; but that was when I was a mere child."
"That Richard Avenel is now a rich thriving trader, and his marriage is in this newspaper—married to an honorable Mrs. M'Catchley. Well—in this country—who should plume himself on birth?"
"You did not say so always, Egerton," replied Harley, with a tone of mournful reproach.