“It is very good of you—of her, I mean,” she answered. “The last time my aunt spoke about the matter, she threatened to leave me without anything. I had displeased her, and this is far more than I had any right to expect.” Mr. Cheadle rose. “I am glad that you are satisfied,” he said, with an air of relief. “You will let me know your further movements, and if I can do anything for you?” “Thank you,” she answered. “I am quite undecided at present, but I am sure that I shall settle down quite well. But I will let you know.” The lawyer departed, and Catherine, putting on her hat and cape, went out to walk along the shore. The autumn evening, with its chilly wind, and the grey sea, flecked with white patches of foam, seemed to harmonise curiously with her sad thoughts. The shore was quite deserted, and she hurried on, striving to overpower by physical fatigue the restless pain at her heart. All at once, amidst the sighing of the wind and waves, she heard footsteps behind her; the smooth track that led over the beach was only wide enough for one, and standing aside to let this other pedestrian pass, she found herself face to face with Granville Gray. She uttered a little involuntary exclamation of joy, which she instantly smothered. His face was worn and grey, and reflected none of her own pleasure. “I have come to see you on business,” he said. “May I walk a little way with you?” Catherine turned, and led the way from the beach to the carriage road that ran above it. “It is connected with your aunt’s will,” he said. “The whole affair is preposterous.” “Preposterous?” said Catherine. “How do you mean? She has left me what seems almost a fortune, and I certainly had no right to expect more.” “You were her natural heiress, and she has robbed you to give the money to me—me, whom she only saw once in her life—practically an utter stranger to her.” “To you!” cried Catherine in delight. “Oh, I am so glad!” “Please do not congratulate me. I have no intention of keeping it. The money is yours by right, and shall be yours in fact.” “But I do not want it!” exclaimed Catherine. “Do you know how rich I am already? £150 a year! £30 more than my salary used to be!” “A fortune, indeed,” he replied. “But I beg of you to listen to me. Last Wednesday your aunt called on me and told me definitely that she had left all her property to you. She even asked me to act as her executor. Yet immediately afterwards she went to her lawyer and made this absurd will. Does it not show that she was not quite responsible?” “But she also distinctly told me that she would leave me nothing. I am perfectly certain that she realised what she was doing. Why will you refuse the good fortune at your hand?” “Because it is not mine, but yours.” Then suddenly lowering his tone, he added, “Catherine, why did she come to me that day?”