Her mother, who was the only child of a wealthy cotton-spinner, died when she was about three years old. When she was about twelve the grandfather, who had disowned his daughter for marrying Michael O'Flaherty, also died. And, as he was a widower, childless and intestate, Miss O'Flaherty, of course, became entitled to the whole of his property--amounting to nearly £250,000. My father was a first cousin of her mother. About two years before his death he got involved in some bill-transactions with Michael O'Flaherty, and the result was that Michael O'Flaherty got possession without, practically speaking, any consideration of a reversionary interest that my father had in £2,000. The reversion fell in about twelve months afterward, but, as my father had parted with it, I was left penniless at his death. This had been discovered by Miss O'Flaherty a short time before I met her in Chandos Street. Miss O'Flaherty had been educated at a French convent; and Mervin was right in his surmises as to the reasons that induced her to live in Bedford Square, and to discard the numerous suitors to her hand and fortune. Amongst these suitors was an elderly baronet, who sought by marrying her to recoup the fortune he had squandered in betting and dissipation. In his attempt to gain Miss O'Flaherty he was seconded by his mother. And Michael was so pleased at having a baronet for a son-in-law that he, and, at his instance, his sister--not the one who was in Nice--brought all the pressure they could bear on Miss O'Flaherty, to induce her to marry a man whom she knew to be a worthless _roue_, and whom she despised as such. I may now continue the narrative in her own words: "When you told me your history I was horrified to think that a gentleman's son, and one who for years had been educated in the society of gentlemen, should be in such a position, and still more horrified to think that you were my own cousin, and that you had been brought to such a state by the conduct of my father. I felt it a solemn duty to do something to atone for what you had suffered at my father's hands. But how? A young lady cannot very well make large presents of money to a young gentleman without the risk of her conduct being misconstrued; and I could not tell you who I was, and why I assisted you, without reflecting on my father's conduct in a way that I could not bring myself to do.