"She wants to see you particularly, sir; she says her name is Wilmot—Margaret Wilmot; and that she is the daughter of——" The sickly pallor of Mr. Dunbar's face changed to an awful livid hue: and Arthur Lovell, looking at his client at this moment, saw the change. It was the first time he had seen any evidence of fear either in the face or manner of Henry Dunbar. "I will not see her," exclaimed Mr. Dunbar; "I never heard Wilmot speak of any daughter. This woman is some impudent impostor, who wants to extort money out of me. I will not see her: let her be sent about her business." The waiter hesitated. "She is a very respectable-looking person, sir," he said; "she doesn't look anything like an impostor." "Perhaps not!" answered Mr. Dunbar, haughtily; "but she is an impostor, for all that. Joseph Wilmot had no daughter, to my knowledge. Pray do not let me be disturbed about this business. I have suffered quite enough already on account of this man's death." He sank back in his chair, and took up his newspaper as he finished speaking. His face was completely hidden behind the newspaper. "Shall I go and speak to this girl?" asked Arthur Lovell. "On no account! The girl is an impostor. Let her be sent about her business!" The waiter left the room. "Pardon me, Mr. Dunbar," said the young lawyer; "but if you will allow me to make a suggestion, as your legal adviser in this business, I would really recommend you to see this girl." "Why?" "Because the people in a place like this are notorious gossips and scandal-mongers. If you refuse to see this person, who, at any rate, calls herself Joseph Wilmot's daughter, they may say——" "They may say what?" asked Henry Dunbar. "They may say that it is because you have some special reason for not seeing her." "Indeed, Mr. Lovell. Then I am to put myself out of the way—after being fagged and harassed to death already about this business—and am to see every adventuress who chooses to trade upon the name of the murdered man, in order to stop the mouths of the good people of Winchester. I beg to tell you, my dear sir, that I am utterly indifferent to anything that may be said of me: and that I shall only study my own ease and comfort. If people choose to think that Henry Dunbar is the murderer of his old servant, they are welcome to their opinion: I shall not trouble myself to set them right." The waiter re-entered the room as Mr. Dunbar finished speaking. "The young person says that she must see you, sir," the man said. "She says that if you refuse to see her, she will wait at the door of this house until you leave it. My master has spoken to her, sir; but it's no use: she's the most determined young woman I ever saw." Mr. Dunbar's face was still hidden by the newspaper. There was a little pause before he replied.