“Yes, I’ll see him,” she said. “Ask him to come in.”

Gilder was dressed as for an official visit. He carried a glossy silk hat, an incongruous sight in the country, in his gloved hand; his morning coat sported a large yellow rose; his patent shoes shone violently. Before he came to Willow House he had called at his own cottage to refresh his memory on one or two points, but the house was empty. Thomas had evidently gone up to town, as he had said he would. At first he was annoyed, but later he was glad that the man was not there. After all, he knew enough, more than enough for the comfort of Leslie Gine.

She met him with a distant little bow.

“I’m afraid you will not regard me as a welcome visitor, Miss Gine,” he said; “but I have a little business to discuss with you, and I should be grateful if you would give me a few minutes of your time.”

“Will you sit down, please?” she said coldly.

He was gazing at her with that queer, hungry look she had seen in his face before.

“I understand your engagement with Lord Chelford is broken off?” And, when she did not answer: “It was partly that which brought me here, and partly something much more serious; something,” he said, with distinct deliberation, “which affects you very closely, Miss Gline.”

He paused, expecting a reply, but received none. She sat bolt upright in one of the deep chairs that abounded in the room, her hands folded lightly on her lap, her gaze fixed on his.

“I was, as you probably know, for many years your brother’s right-hand man. In consequence, I have a very intimate knowledge of his affairs; and not only his affairs, but the affairs of his clients. I know, for example, that your large fortune is mythical.”

If he had expected to shock her he was disappointed. She nodded slightly.

“I know that also, Mr Gilder,” she said. “I hope you haven’t made this long journey to tell me this?”

For a second he was staggered. He had expected his announcement to be the first of two tremendous sensations; she saw the disappointment in his face and could have smiled.

“There is another matter,” he said, recovering himself, “which does not directly affect you. Your brother administered the estate of the late Lady Chelford, in the sense that he had in his charge stocks and bonds to the value of fifty-one thousand pounds. That is quite usual in an old-fashioned lawyer’s business, but today, of course, the stocks would be in the hands of the bank, and the dividends automatically credited.”

Her heart nearly stopped beating. He saw the colour fade from her face and was very sure of himself.

“My brother has – that money?” she said.