"There was a Mister Yelland Mace, Sir, who paid his haddresses to her, and I do believe, Sir, she rayther liked him. I don't know, I'm sure, whether he was serious in 'is haddresses, but it looked very like as if he meant to speak; though I do suppose he was looking 'igher for a wife. Well, he was believed to 'ave 'ad an 'and in that 'orrible business." "I know--so he undoubtably had--and the poor young lady, I suppose, was greatly shocked and distressed." "Yes, Sir, and she died about a year after." David Arden expressed his regret, and then he asked-- "You have often seen that man, Yelland Mace?" "Not often, Sir." "You remember his face pretty well, I daresay?" "Well, no, Sir, not very well. It is a long time." "Do you recollect whether there was anything noticeable in his features?--had he, for instance, a remarkably prominent nose?" "I don't remember that he 'ad, Sir. I rather think not, but I can't by no means say for certain. It is a long time, and I 'aven't much of a memory for faces. There is a likeness of him among my poor niece's letters." "Really? I should be so much obliged if you would allow me to see it." "It is at 'ome, Sir, but I shall be 'ome to dinner before I go out to Mortlake; and, if you please, I shall borrow it of my sister, and take it with me." This offer David Arden gladly accepted. When the events were recent, he could have no difficulty in identifying Yelland Mace, by the evidence of fifty witnesses, if necessary. But it was another thing now. The lapse of time had made matters very different. It was recent impressions of a vague kind about Mr. Longcluse that had revived the idea, and prompted a renewal of the search. Martha Tansey was aged now, and he had misgivings about the accuracy of her recollection. Was it possible, after all, that he was about to see that which would corroborate his first vague suspicions? Sir Richard had a busy and rather harassing day, the first of his succession to an old title and a new authority, and he was not sorry when it closed. He had stolen about from place to place in a hired cab, and leaned back to avoid a chance recognition, like an absconding debtor; and had talked with the people whom he was obliged to call on and see, in low and hurried colloquy, through the window of the cab. And now night had fallen, the lamps were glaring, and tired enough he returned to his lodgings, sent for his tailor, and arranged promptly about the "----inky cloak, good mother, And customary suits of solemn black;" and that done, he wrote two or three notes to kindred in Yorkshire, with whom it behoved him to stand on good terms; and then he determined to drive out to Mortlake Hall. An unpleasant mixture of feelings was in his mind as he thought of that visit, and the cold tenant of the ancestral house, whom in the grim dignity of death, it would not have been seemly to leave for a whole day and night unvisited. It was to him a repulsive visit, but how could he postpone it?