‘I dare say!’ said Clarence, smiling; ‘but to say nothing of poor Selina, my mother would hardly see it in the same light, nor should I deal rightly, even if I could make any alterations; I doubt whether my father would have held himself bound—certainly not while no one can read this document.’ ‘It would simply outrage his legal mind,’ said Martyn. ‘Then what is to be done? Is the injustice to be perpetual?’ asked Emily. ‘This is what I have thought of,’ said Clarence. ‘We must leave matters as they are till I can realise enough either to pay off all these bequests, or to offer Mr. Fordyce the value of the estate.’ ‘It is not the whole,’ I said. ‘Not the Wattlesea part. This means Chantry House and the three farms in the village. £10,000 would cover it.’ ‘Is it possible?’ asked Emily. ‘Yes,’ returned Clarence, ‘God helping me. You know our concern is bringing in good returns, and Mr. Castleford will put me in the way of doing more with my available capital.’ ‘We will save so as to help you!’ added Emily. At which he smiled. CHAPTER XLII. ON A SPREE. ‘Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilight too, her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn, A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.’ WORDSWORTH. CLARENCE went to London according to his determination, and as he had for some time been urgent that I should try some newly-invented mechanical appliances, he took me with him, this being the last expedition of the ancient yellow chariot. One of his objects was that I should see St. Paul’s, Knightsbridge, which was then the most distinguished church of our school of thought, and where there was to be some special preaching. The Castlefords had a seat there, and I was settled there in good time, looking at the few bits of stained glass then in the east window, when, as the clergy came in from the vestry, I beheld a familiar face, and recognised the fine countenance and bearing of our dear old friend Frank Fordyce. Then, looking at the row of ladies in front of me, I beheld for a moment an outline of a profile recalling many things. No doubt, Anne Fordyce was there, though instead of barely emulating my stunted stature, she towered above her companions, looking to my mind most fresh and graceful in her pretty summer dress; and I knew that Clarence saw her too.