‘We see some rum affairs in the law,’ he said, after giving George an idea of the grandeur of his firm. ‘We’ve a case now that’s a romance in itself.’ ‘A romance!’ exclaimed Miss Jackson. ‘Oh, I dote on romances, they end so sadly. I had my romance once.’ Again the big round eyes filled with tears, and Miss Jackson was about to give way, when Georgina called her a goose, and Jabez went on with his narrative to a larger audience, for the local gossip was exhausted. ‘There is a bit of sadness about this romance, it’s true,’ said Mr. Duck, ‘because there’s a death in it.’ Miss Jackson got her handkerchief ready. ‘It’s the Egerton case I mean. You’ve seen the advertisement in the newspapers asking for proof of Mr. Gurth Egerton’s death? Well, my firm put that in. We’re solicitors to the gent. There’s no doubt he was drowned in the _Bon Espoir_. But the most curious part of it is the housekeeper, Mrs. Turvey’—Georgina turned up her nose here, and Miss Jackson sighed a sigh of sympathy with her friend’s trouble. ‘The housekeeper, Mrs. Turvey, and her little girl distinctly saw an exact counterpart of Gurth Egerton at his own front door some time after the news of the wreck reached England.’ ‘A ghost!’ shrieked Miss Jackson; ‘don’t say it was a ghost.’ ‘Well, I don’t know what else it could have been unless it was the drowned man himself; and if it was him, why should he open his front door and go away again? Why shouldn’t he have said, “Mrs. Turvey, light the fire in my bed-room and air my nightshirt.”’ Miss Jackson hid her face, and Georgina exclaimed, ‘Jabez!’ Miss Jackson’s brother buried his head in the album. ‘I beg your pardon, ladies,’ said Mr. Duck, ‘for alluding to details, but in the law we are particular about details. Well, instead of behaving as a live man would, he doesn’t come in, and nothing more is heard of him. His friend, Dr. Birnie, is executor to his will, and inherits a good lump of his property; but Birnie can’t touch a penny till we can prove the death of the man who came to his own front door after he was drowned.’ ‘But,’ exclaimed George, ‘surely if he was drowned you can prove it.’ ‘Not easily, except by supposition. Some people left the ship before she sank. They all swear the passenger known as Egerton was not in either of the boats. They were all picked up and are accounted for—every soul in the boats.’ ‘Then Mr. Egerton must be dead,’ said Miss Georgina. Mr. Duck smiled. ‘Of course he is, my dear, but not in the eyes of the law. In a railway accident, or burned in a theatre, or blown up by an explosion of gas, we might have found a button or a coat-tail or something to swear by. You see in the present unsatisfactory state of the case there are people to whom money is left who can’t touch it.’ Miss Georgina shot an arrow. ‘There’s Mrs. Turvey, the housekeeper, has five hundred pounds, for instance.’ ‘Yes, my dear, that estimable lady has, or rather will have, five hundred pounds.’