“Nothing to you, Miss Affleck? If money had been left to your mother, it would, I imagine, be something to you, she being dead. As it happens--there is no legacy--no money--nothing left; but I think I know what you mean by saying that it would be of no advantage to you.” “What do I mean?” she said, still led on to speak after resolving to say no more. “You mean that your mother was never married.” Her face flushed hotly, and she rose from her chair. Mr. Tytherleigh also rose quickly from his seat, fearing that she was about to leave the room without saying more. “Miss Affleck,” he said, “will you allow me to make a little explanation before asking you any more questions? I have said that there is no money left to Margaret Affleck, but I can safely say that if you are the daughter of that Margaret advertised for so long ago, you can lose nothing by giving us any information you may possess. Certainly you can lose nothing by assisting us, but you might gain a great deal. Please look again at this advertisement--'supposed to have married'--but _was_ your mother ever married?” “Yes, she was,” answered Fan, a little reluctantly. “Her husband's name was Joseph Harrod; but I do not know where he is. I left him years ago.” “Nor do we want him. But tell me this, Miss Affleck, and please do not be offended with me for asking so painful a question; but everything hinges on it. Are you the child of this Joseph Harrod--your mother's husband?” She cast down her eyes. It was a hard question to answer; but the kind tone in which he had spoken had won her heart, for kindness was very precious to her just now, and quickly had its effect, in spite of her recent sad experience. She could not help trusting him. “No, he was not my father,” she answered. “And who was your father, Miss Affleck?” “I do not know.” “But do you know absolutely nothing about him--did your mother never mention him to you? How do you come to know that Joseph Harrod was not your father?” “My mother told me. She said that my father was a gentleman, and--that I looked like him. She would not tell me his name, because she had taken an oath never to reveal it to anyone.” He was watching her face as she spoke, her--eyes cast down. “One question more, Miss Affleck: do you happen to know where your mother was born?” “She came from Norfolk.” Mr. Tytherleigh rested an elbow on the table, and thrusting his fingers through his hair, stared down at the note-book in which he had been writing down her answers. “How strange--how very strange!” he remarked. Presently he added, “We must find out where you were baptised, Miss Affleck; you do not know, I suppose?”