It came in a day or two. Dr. Shergold was dead, and an enterprising newspaper announced simultaneously that the bulk of his estate would pass to Mr. Henry Shergold, a gentleman at present studying for his uncle's profession. This paragraph caught the eye of Harvey Munden, who sent a line to his friend, to ask if it was true. In reply he received a mere postcard: 'Yes. Will see you before long.' But Harvey wanted to be off to Como, and as business took him into the city, he crossed the river and sought Maze Pond. Again the door was opened to him by the landlady's daughter; she stood looking keenly in his face, her eyes smiling and yet suspicious. 'Mr. Shergold in?' he asked carelessly. 'No, he isn't.' There was a strange bluntness about this answer. The girl stood forward, as if to bar the entrance, and kept searching his face. 'When is he likely to be?' 'I don't know. He didn't say when he went out.' A woman's figure appeared in the background. The girl turned and said sharply, 'All right, mother, it's only somebody for Mr. Shergold.' 'I'll go upstairs and write a note,' said Munden, in a rather peremptory voice. The other drew back and allowed him to pass, but with evident disinclination. As he entered the room, he saw that she had followed. He went up to a side-table, on which lay a blotting-book, with other requisites for writing, and then he stood for a moment as if in meditation. 'Your name is Emma, isn't it?' he inquired, looking at the girl with a smile. 'Yes, it is.' 'Well then, Emma, shut the door, and let's have a talk. Your mother won't mind, will she?' he added slyly. The girl tossed her head. 'I don't see what it's got to do with mother.' She closed the door, but did not latch it. 'What do you want to talk about?' 'You're a very nice girl to look at, Emma, and I've always admired you when you opened the door to me. I've always liked your nice, respectful way of speaking, but somehow you don't speak quite so nicely to-day. What has put you out?' Her eyes did not quit his face for a moment; her attitude betokened the utmost keenness of suspicious observation. 'Nothing's put me out, that I know of.' 'Yet you don't speak very nicely--not very respectfully. Perhaps'--he paused--'perhaps Mr. Shergold is going to leave?' 'P'r'aps he may be.' 'And you're vexed at losing a lodger.' He saw her lip curl and then she laughed. 'You're wrong there.' 'Then _what_ is it?' He drew near and made as though he would advance a familiar arm. Emma started back. 'All right,' she exclaimed, with an insolent nod. 'I'll tell Mr. Shergold.' 'Tell Mr. Shergold? Why? What has it to do with him?' 'A good deal.' 'Indeed? For shame, Emma! I never expected _that_!' 'What do you mean?' she retorted hotly. 'You keep your impudence to yourself. If you want to know, Mr. Shergold is going to _marry_ me--so there!' The stroke was effectual. Harvey Munden stood as if transfixed, but he recovered himself before a word escaped his lips.