“And you considered Miss Mayfield a frivolous person?” “Frivolous to a degree that makes me wonder I could ever waste my time in her company.” “Will you do me the favour to tell me all you know of the circumstances under which Miss Mayfield left her home?” said Eustace. “I can assure you that my motive for making these inquiries is no idle or unworthy one. You will be doing me a great service if you will give me what information you can in relation to this subject.” “If you put it in that manner, I will tell you all I know,” answered Mrs. Willows, “though it is not a pleasant subject--especially to me, who might have suffered by Celia Mayfield’s conduct. Goodness knows what people might have said of _me_ if my pa’s position in Bayham hadn’t been what it was.” There was a pause, during which the woman rearranged her silk dress, and then she began her friend’s story with a stony face, and extreme deliberation of manner. “I suppose you are aware that Celia Mayfield ran away from her home with a gentleman called Hardwick, or at least calling himself Hardwick, who was staying at the George Hotel when he became acquainted with her, and who it was easy to see was very much above her in station. Indeed, how she could ever bring herself to think that he would marry her, would be a mystery to me if I did not know how her vanity had been fostered and her looks praised by people who ought to have known better. She did think so; and when I warned her of the danger her imprudent conduct might lead her into, she persuaded me to think the same. ‘Very well, Celia,’ I said; ‘you know best; but it isn’t often that a gentleman whose pa is in parliament marries the daughter of a stationer.’ He had let it slip that his father was a member of parliament, and he had let many things slip which proved that he belonged to rich people and to high people.” “He was a young man, I believe?” “Five-and-twenty at most, and very handsome.” As Mrs. Willows pronounced these words, her gaze became suddenly fixed, and she sat staring at her visitor with an expression of extreme astonishment. “Perhaps you are related to him?” she said, interrogatively. “I never saw him in my life. But why do you ask the question?” “Because you are like him. I didn’t notice the resemblance until just now; for it’s so long since I saw him that I’d almost forgotten what he was like. But as I spoke to you his face came back to me. Yes, you are very like him. And you are really not related?” “I tell you again, Mrs. Willows, that I never saw this man in my life. It is the Mayfield family in which I am interested. Pray go on with your story.” The beating of his heart quickened as he spoke. He had discovered something at least from this woman. It was something to know that he resembled the nameless father who had abandoned him. “The likeness between us is a birthright of which he could not rob me,” thought the young man; “or he would have deprived me of that, as well as of the rest.”