'I hadn't thought of that. She is an heiress now--she is, there's no doubt. No one knows except me. No one saw me enter the house--no one; I might slip out and propose to her. I know she will accept me. If I don't propose now my chance will be lost, perhaps for ever. You can't propose to a girl immediately after her brother's death, particularly if his death makes her an heiress. Then, after the funeral, she may go away. She will probably go to London. I wouldn't give two pence for my chance. New influences! Besides, a girl with six thousand a year sees things in a very different light to a girl who has nothing, or next to nothing, even if it is the same girl. I shall lose her if I don't propose now. By Jove! What a chance! If I could only get out of this room without being seen! Hateful room! Curious place to choose to die in. Appropriate too--dark, gloomy, like a grave. I won't have it as a smoking-room. I'll put the smoking-room somewhere else. I wish that butler would stop moving about and get back to his pantry. Gad, supposing he were to catch me! I might be had up for murder. Awful! I had better ring the bell. If I do, I shall lose six thousand a year. A terrible game to play; but it is worth it. Here comes the butler.' Alfred slipped behind the door and the servant passed up the passage without entering the room. 'By heavens, what a fool I am! What have I done? If I had been caught behind that door it would have gone hard with me. There would have been nothing for it but to have told the truth; that having accidentally found the brother dead, I was anxious to turn the discovery to account by proposing to the sister. I daresay I would be believed; improbable that I had murdered him. How still he does lie! Suppose he were only shamming. Oh, he is dead enough. I wish I were out of this room. Everything seems quiet now. I mustn't peep; I must walk boldly out, and take my chance. Not a sound.' Alfred walked into the wide passage. He avoided the boarded places, selected the rugs and carpets to walk on, and so made his way into the drawing-room, and hence on to the lawn. Then he slipped down a secluded path, and returned to the tennis players from a different side. 'Where have you been?' 'I went for a stroll round the grounds. I thought you would not like my cigar, that was all.' 'Did Harold give you a cigar?' 'No, I have not seen him.' 'Let's go into the smoking-room and get one.' 'No, thank you, I really don't care to smoke. I'd sooner talk to you.' 'But you can do both.' Alfred did not reply, and they walked down the pathway in silence. 'Good Heavens!' he thought, 'that cigar! If she insists on going to the smoking-room! I must say something, or she'll want to go and fetch a cigar. But I can't think of anything. How difficult it is to keep one's wits about one after what has happened.' 'Do let me fetch you a cigar.' 'No, I assure you, Miss Lawson, that I do not want to smoke. Let's play tennis.' 'Would you like to?'