Laying a hand over his heart, the Captain, who had also risen, said with grave solemnity: “On my word of honour, Sir Gilbert Clare, that is what I am prepared to do. Your grandson shall be produced before you whensoever and wheresoever may be most convenient to you.” Sir Gilbert took a turn or two in silence. Many memories were at work within him. “No, I will not see the young man just yet. Bring his mother first and let me see and question her. There are several points that will have to be cleared up to my satisfaction before—before—— But I need say no more at present.” “Will you be good enough, Sir Gilbert, to name a time for your interview with my niece?” “To-morrow at eleven, if that will suit you and her.” Then he added under his breath: “Ah, if my faithful, shrewd old Page were only here to help me to investigate this business! The longer I live the more I miss him.” CHAPTER XVII. SIR GILBERT AND GIOVANNA Punctually at eleven o’clock next forenoon Captain Verinder, accompanied by his niece, alighted from the fly which had conveyed them from the railway station, at the foot of the flight of semi-circular steps leading to the portico which sheltered the main entrance to the mansion of Withington Chase. So elated had the Captain been by the result of his interview with Sir Gilbert, that, after detailing to his niece on his return all that had passed between them, he had insisted that she, he and Luigi should all dine together in a private room at a certain popular restaurant (of course at Vanna’s expense), when he did not fail to toast Sir Gilbert in a bumper of Clicquot. “Here’s to your grandsire, my boy,” he said to Luigi as he drained his glass; then, having refilled it, he added: “And here’s to the coming lord of Withington Chase, and may he never forget all that his old uncle has done for him!” A little later he remarked: “I don’t think it will be long, my boy, before you come into your inheritance. The old man’s breaking up, that’s plainly to be seen. I shouldn’t be surprised if the next winter tries him severely. He coughed several times during our interview, and a very hollow cough it was.” “And when he is dead and gone, shall I be Sir Luigi Clare?” asked the young man. “Sir Luigi Clare!” echoed the Captain. “There’s a point, now, which I had completely overlooked, while flattering myself that I had forgotten nothing. You will come into the title of course on Sir Gilbert’s death. But Sir Luigi Clare will never do. It’s altogether too outlandish. We must re-christen you, and that at once.” “Why not make English of the name by turning Luigi into Lewis?” demanded Giovanna.