It revived all the old curiosity, which the first notice of his coming had evoked in her mind. What on earth could he possibly have to say to her? However, that question would soon be put to rest, and she was bound, for Ilfracombe’s sake, to receive him. She happened to be in her boudoir at the time, and told the servant to desire her visitor to walk up there. Nell knew that the lawyer did not like her, and the feeling was reciprocal. Mr Sterndale was a little, old man of sixty, with silver hair. A very cute lawyer, and a firm friend, but uncompromising to a degree--a man from whom a fallen woman might expect no mercy. Miss Llewellyn had said in her letter to her lover, that she knew Mr Sterndale regarded her as a harpy who cared for nothing but his money, and this estimate of his opinion was strictly true. With him, women were divided into only two classes--moral and immoral. The class to which poor Nell belonged was generally mercenary and grasping, and deserted a poor man to join a richer one, and he had no idea that she was any different. She was beautiful, he saw, so much the more dangerous; and all his fear of late years had been lest the earl should have taken it in his head to marry her, as indeed, except for Mr Sterndale’s constant warnings and entreaties, he would have done. Now he rejoiced to think that his client was about to be wedded to a woman in his own sphere of life, for the news of the marriage had not yet reached England, and he had come to Grosvenor Square to fulfil Lord Ilfracombe’s request that he would break the intelligence to Miss Llewellyn, as calmly and deliberately as if he were the bearer of the best of news. She did not rise as he entered, but, bowing rather curtly, begged he would be seated and disclose his business with her. She had been accustomed for so long to be treated by this man as the mistress of the establishment, that she had come to regard him much as Lord Ilfracombe did, in the light of a servant. Mr Sterndale noted the easy familiarity with which she motioned him to take a chair, and chuckled inwardly, to think how soon their relative positions would be reversed. ‘Good morning,’ began Miss Llewellyn. ‘Ilfracombe wrote me word I might expect to see you, Mr Sterndale, but I have no idea for what purpose.’ ‘Perhaps not, madam,’ was the reply, ‘but it will soon be explained. Have you heard from his lordship lately?’ Miss Llewellyn raised her head proudly. ‘I hear constantly, as you know. Ilfracombe is well, I am thankful to say, and apparently enjoying himself. He has made some pleasant acquaintances in Valetta, and they are urging him to stay on with them a little longer. Else he would have returned before now. He is longing to get home again, I know.’