"He's been here. He called here the other day. Sat half an hour--said he wasn't used to my kind of conversation." "Well, he isn't--is he?" "I dare say not. But as we don't regulate our discourse by the acquirements of gardeners, it doesn't matter. However, I asked him what he came for, and hinted that I wasn't going to take any shares, if that was what he wanted. Then he began to talk conundrums." "What did he tell you?" "Told me nothing. Hinted that there was a lot that I ought to know." "He didn't give you any hint of what that was?" "No. Why? I thought that you, who know everything, might know what he meant." "My young friend, I learn a good deal about the private affairs of many people. They remain private affairs." "Very good. This fellow seemed mad. He informed me, among other things, that he was no relation of mine." "Unnecessary." "Quite so. Then he began to speak in high terms of my mother, for which I ought to have kicked him." "Of your mother?" "Then he said that if I followed the wishes of my mother, there would be any amount of money for me. That was to come after I learned the truth. What is the truth?" "How am I to know what he meant? Perhaps he called on the wrong Woodroffe. There's another man of your name, you know--Richard Woodroffe." "I know. Little cad! Perhaps that may explain the whole thing. It never does to treat those outsiders as if they were gentlemen born, does it? Once in the gutter, always in the gutter, eh?" "I don't know." "Look here, Sir Robert, you come here a good deal. My mother says she knew you years ago----" "Very slightly." "Well, there's something going on. She's miserable. I had hints from Molly--from a girl--as well as this gardener fellow--that there's something going on. Is it a smash? Has my mother chucked her fortune? The girl said something about losing everything. I can't get my mother to attend to business, and I must have some money soon. You're a man of the world, Sir Robert. There's a row on, you know." "Another? Why, man, I hear you were engaged to Miss Woodroffe and to Miss Pennefather at the same time. There are the materials for a pretty row. Is there another?" "Well, if my mother has got into a mess, I was thinking that it might be as well to make it up with Molly, and stand in with the gardener, and get as much as I can out of him." "Perhaps--perhaps." He considered a little. "Look here, Sir Humphrey, I am on my way to see Mrs. Haveril. Be here--don't go away--I shall come back in an hour or two, with something to tell you." CHAPTER XXVI. THE SECOND MOTHER.