John stuck his head in at this juncture, and invited us both to come up to Mrs. Inglethorp’s room, as he and Mr. Wells had finished looking through the desk in the boudoir.

As we went up the stairs, John looked back to the dining-room door, and lowered his voice confidentially:

“Look here, what’s going to happen when these two meet?”

I shook my head helplessly.

“I’ve told Mary to keep them apart if she can.”

“Will she be able to do so?”

“The Lord only knows. There’s one thing, Inglethorp himself won’t be too keen on meeting her.”