“My charming wife,” replied Mr. Croft, in that daring tone of off-hand recklessness which, as Mr. Black had remarked, was one of his peculiarities, “my charming wife, giving you credit for a vein of romance, and a depth of sensibility which, I confess, I never noticed in your character, imagines that the revival of old associations, the thoughts of ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ in fact, which the sight of Mrs. Dudley must naturally have awakened, may produce an undesirable effect upon the ultimate disposal of your property. For my part, I am delighted at the opportunity now afforded of assuring you I would much rather you left your money to Mrs. Dudley than to my wife.” “What are you talking about, Douglas?” asked his uncle. From the drawing-room window of the house they occupied Mrs. Croft could, with the aid of an opera-glass, see, not merely that Mr. Stewart stopped as he put this question, but that he looked excited and perplexed. “What is Mrs. Douglas to me, I ask again, that I should leave her sixpence? She is a sweet woman, and pretty, and devoted to her blockhead of a husband, but I should not care if I never saw her again. Does your wife think I am in love with her? Does she imagine I am so nearly doting as all that comes to?” Douglas Croft looked steadily in his uncle’s face for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “It really is too amusing,” he said. “Do you mean to tell me you do not know who Mrs. Dudley was?” “No; who the deuce _was_ Mrs. Dudley?” inquired the other, testily. “And she never has enlightened you?” persisted Mr. Croft. “If she had enlightened me I should have known, I suppose, and I do not know who or what she was, excepting a simpleton to marry Dudley. As you seem so well informed, tell me this wonderful secret. Who was Mrs. Dudley?” “Heather Bell,” answered Mr. Croft. “You do not mean that?” “I do, upon my honour. Miss Hope told me and my wife, and explained that it was you who selected the name which seems to suit her so admirably.” Mr. Stewart did not take any direct notice of this information; he only resumed his walk over the sands, saying to himself,— “And so that is Heather Bell—so that is Heather Bell!”