Be this as it may, there is reason for supposing that the Lady Kildhurm of this epoch was a person of exceptional temperament; that her manifestations were not always entirely comprehensible; that, in short, despite her cleverness, there was a screw loose in her somewhere. Sir Norman and she were not unfrequently referred to in critical social circles of the vicinity as the crazy couple, the mad Kildhurms. They bore their reputation philosophically, and were very fond of each other. A year or two after their marriage a son was born to them, and they approved themselves affectionate parents. But they were almost intolerably poor; and when poverty amounts to an inadequacy of means to ends, it becomes irksome. It was highly desirable that their financial resources should be increased. I cannot say whether Sir Norman, in addition to his other investigations, made any search for the philosopher's stone; but there can be no doubt that he stood greatly in need of some such implement. He was angry with fortune; he conceived that wealth was his due, not on account of his station merely, but by reason of personal merit. From a state of mind such as this--from a keen perception of the injustice of fortune--it is not always a long step to attempting to force fortune's hand. The Baronet's philosophical studies may have so expanded his views as to enable him to consider the feasibility of acquiring money by means divergent from what is vulgarly called morality. He was a slight-built, nervous man, of a bilious temperament, with the features and peculiarities of his race strongly pronounced in him; but he possessed in addition--what most of his ancestors did not--a soft and winning tone of voice, and a tongue which could be persuasive when he chose to make it so. Few women could withhold their confidence from him, if he set himself to gain it: and not a few men had acknowledged the pleasant cajolery which he could employ on occasion.