‘Perhaps not; but although a stranger to you, mademoiselle, I have a strong claim upon your kindness in this matter.’ ‘Are you a lawyer?’ ‘No. I have no mercenary interest in this matter. Your niece, Lucille Glenlyne, is my promised wife.’ He produced the double miniature and the packet of letters. ‘These,’ he said, ‘will show you that I do not come to you unacquainted with the secrets of your sister’s life. My desire is to restore Lucille to her father, if he still lives; or, in the event of his death, to win for her at least a father’s name.’ ‘And a father’s fortune!’ exclaimed Mademoiselle Julie hastily; ‘my niece ought not to be deprived of her just rights. This Mr. Glenlyne was likely to inherit a large fortune. I gathered that from his letters to my sister.’ ‘Yet in all these years you have made no attempt to seek out your niece, or to assist her in establishing her rights,’ said Lucius, with some reproach in his tone. ‘In the first place, I had no clue that would assist such a search,’ answered Julie Dumarques, ‘and in the second place, I had no money to spend on lawyers. I had still another reason—namely, my horror of crossing the sea. But with you the case is different—as my niece’s affianced husband, you would profit by any good fortune that may befall her.’ ‘Believe me, that contingency is very far from my thoughts. I want to do my duty to Lucille; but a life of poverty has no terror for me if it be but shared with her.’ ‘The young are apt to take that romantic view of life,’ said Mademoiselle Dumarques, with a philosophic air; ‘but their ideas are generally modified in after years. A decent competence is the only solace of age;’ and here she sighed, as if that decent competence were not yet achieved. ‘Will you let me see those letters, mademoiselle?’ asked Lucius, coming straight to the point. ‘I have shown you my credentials; those letters in your sister’s hand must prove to you that I have some interest in this case, even should you be inclined to doubt my own word.’ Mademoiselle shrugged her shoulders, in polite disavowal of any such mistrust. ‘I have no objection to your looking over the letters, in my presence,’ she said; ‘and I hope, if by my assistance my niece obtains a fortune, she will not forget her poor aunt Julie.’ ‘I doubt not, mademoiselle, that the niece will show more consideration for the aunt than the aunt has hitherto shown for the niece.’ Mademoiselle Dumarques sighed plaintively. ‘What was I to do, monsieur, with narrow means, and an insurmountable terror of crossing the sea?’ ‘The transit from Calais to Dover is no doubt appalling,’ said Lucius.