"It is a hazardous thing—seems to me almost impossible," continued the Count—and he was never tired of reiterating his doubts on the subject—"that such a fortune and title should belong to anybody without their knowing it." "It was her mother’s wish," said John Hubbard. "Oh, I know," said the Count, "that she has been brought up to regard with apprehension every one out of her profession; and I know she believes that under no circumstances ought she to leave the stage. And yet I fancy she will not be very grateful either to her mother, or to old Mr. Cayley, or to the trustees, for keeping her in ignorance of her good fortune. And if she should consent to be my wife, she will probably accuse me of having used the secret for my own purpose." The Count spoke as if such an accusation would do him a great injury. But the possibility of the future he had chalked out for himself drove away this ugly after-thought. He became quite excited. His face was flushed; his hand trembled as he lifted his glass. "God knows," he said, earnestly, "that it is not her money I want. I’m not a fortune-hunter." "You have a lot of money," said his brother, gently; while he watched his face with those mild grey eyes. "If you were to marry Miss Brunel, you could afford to part with what you have now." "What do you take me for?" said the Count, with a touch of virtuous indignation. "If I were to marry Miss Brunel, I should insist on her settling all her money on herself. I have enough to live upon, thank God!" John Hubbard’s mind was made up on the spot. "You will never marry Miss Brunel, Fred," he said, quietly. "Why?" said the other, suddenly putting down the glass he had been lifting. "Simply because her relatives on the father’s side won’t allow it." "You said they——" "They are content to say nothing while they hope to secure the reversion of the property through Miss Brunel’s dying intestate," said John Hubbard, calmly, though his eyebrows were twitching nervously. "When, however, they understand that you, a brother of mine, and therefore likely to know how matters stand, are about to marry Miss Brunel, they will inform her of her true position, and implore her not to marry a man beneath her in rank. And you know, Fred, they will be able to point to your previous silence as a witness against you." The first impulse of Count Schönstein was to dart an angry glance at the pale, quiet little man before him, as though the latter had dealt him an unprovoked blow; then, when he saw in his brother’s calm face only corroborative testimony of the appalling truth he had uttered, the Count leant back in his chair, unable to conceal his fright and dismay. At that moment, Master Alexander entered the room, and said: "Please, Uncle Frederick, mamma says coffee is in the drawing-room, and will you come and have some?" "Yes, yes, my boy," said the Count, jumping up from his chair.