"You mean Sir Frederick?" "Yes, old rip! I wrote, asking if he could let me have a few hundreds, just to help me along. He wrote back saying that he couldn't, but that he could put me in the way of laying my hands on several hundred thousands instead. Then he spoke of the widow." "I see; go on." Mr Coventry had stopped. He seemed to be a little at a loss. "Then, somehow or other, I--I got introduced to her." "Did you, indeed? How strange!" "Don't laugh at me, Miss Hardy. The woman's my aversion. She's old enough to be my mother, or--or my aunt, at any rate." "One's aunt may be younger than oneself." "She isn't, by a deal. She's a hideous, vulgar old monstrosity." "You appear to have a strong objection to the lady." "I have. It--it sounds absurd, but she's always after me. She must mistake me for her son." "For her son? You look twenty-five, and I thought I saw in one of the papers the other day that Mrs Murphy was in her early thirties." "She looks fifty, if a day. She can't have sent me all that money." "As to that, you should know better than I. She might, if she took you for her son." "If I thought she had, I--I'd send it back to her." Mr Coventry had recommenced fidgeting about the room. Miss Hardy's suggestions seemed to have seriously disturbed him. That young lady continued to trifle with the bank-notes. As she trifled she continued to smile demurely. "Hasn't another rich woman been stopping at the Métropole?" "You mean the American?" "Was she an American?" "Rather! Sarah Freemantle. Got five millions--pounds--of her own, in hard cash." "Has she been stopping at the hotel since you've been there?" "I believe she has, though I wasn't aware of it till she had gone." "Haven't you ever seen her?" "Never; which is rather queer, because she's often been at dances which I've been at. But I hate Americans." "Do you, indeed? How liberal-minded!" "Don't laugh at me. You--you don't know how worried I am." "Some people wouldn't feel worried because £10,000 fell into their lap from the skies. Here, Mr Coventry, are your precious notes." "I'll send them back to her at once." "Her? Whom? Mrs Murphy? Don't you think you are rather hasty in jumping at conclusions? Suppose, after all, they didn't come from Mrs Murphy?" "I'll soon find out, and if they did--" "Well, if they did? I thought you mentioned some rather pressing obligations which you had to meet." "Confound it! I know I've been a fool, but I'd rather be posted than owe my salvation to a woman's money." "All men are not of your opinion, Mr Coventry." The lady's tone was dry. The young gentleman had a tendency in the direction of "high-falutin." Among his morning's letters on the morrow the first which caught his eye was a missive enclosed in an envelope which was own brother to the one which had contained the notes. "Another ten thousand pounds," he wailed.