She went to Lord Northmuir’s study as usual in the morning, but this time it was not to act as reader or amanuensis. "It’s a year to-day since I came," she said abruptly, with a purposeful look on her face which the man felt was ominous. "Yes," he answered. "A strange year, but not an unhappy one. What I regarded as a curse has turned out a blessing. I should miss the albatross now if it were to be taken off my neck." "I’m sorry for that," said Joan, "for the albatross has revived and intends to fly away." "What! You will marry?" "No. I’m tired of being conventional. I’ve decided to relieve you of my presence here; and you can forget me, except when, each quarter, you sign a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds." Lord Northmuir’s handsome face grew almost as white as when she had first announced her claim upon him. "I don’t want to forget you. I can’t forget you!" he stammered. "If I could, I would publish the whole truth; but that is impossible, for the honour of the name. You have made me fond of you--made me depend upon you. Why did you do that, if you meant to leave me alone?" "I didn’t mean it at first," replied Joan frankly. "I thought I should be ’in clover’ here, and so I have been; but too much clover upsets the digestion. I must go, Lord Northmuir. I can’t stand it any longer. I’m pining for adventures." "Have you fallen in love?" "No. I wish I had. I’ve been trying in vain." "A year ago I would not have believed it possible that I should make you such an offer, but you have wrought a miracle. You came to blackmail, you remained to bless. Stay with me, my girl, till I die, and not only shall you be remembered in my will, but I will increase your allowance from one thousand to two thousand a year. I can afford to do this, since you have become the one luxury I can’t live without." "I was just beginning to say that, if you would let me go without a fuss, I would take five hundred instead of a thousand a year." "But now I have shown you my heart, you see that offer does not appeal to me." Joan broke out laughing; this upsetting of the whole situation was so humorous. A sudden reckless impulse seized her. She could not resist it. "Lord Northmuir, you will change your mind when I have told you something," she said. "I have played a trick on you. I have no connection with your family, and know no more about your secret than I know what will be in to-morrow’s papers. Mrs. Gone, in dying, mentioned a secret and your name. I put two and two together, and they matched so well that I’ve lived on you for a year, bought lots of dresses, made crowds of friends, had heaps of proposals, and kept seven hundred pounds in hand. Now I think you will be willing to let me go; and you can lie easy and live happy for ever after." Having launched the thunderbolt, she would have left the room, but Lord Northmuir, old and invalided as he was, sprang from his chair like an ardent youth and caught her arm.