'Did you tell Mr. Checkley here anything about his way of living?' 'I remember saying, foolishly, that he looked too respectable to have come from America; and I said in joke that I believed he had been in Camberwell all the time.' 'Nothing about profligacy?' 'Nothing at all.' 'Nothing about rags and tatters?' 'Certainly not. In fact, I knew nothing at all about Athelstan's life during the eight years that he has been away.' 'Have you anything to say, Checkley? You still stick to the parcel story, do you? Very well, and to the Camberwell and profligacy story?' Checkley made no answer. 'Now, then. There is another question. You made a great point about certain imitations of Mr. Dering's writing found in a drawer of Athelstan's table?' 'Well, they were there, in your brother's hand.' 'George, you have something to say on this point.' 'Only this. I was not long articled at that time. The table was taken from the room in which I sat, and placed here for some special work. Now, the imitations of Mr. Dering's handwriting were made by myself and another clerk in joke. I remember them perfectly. They were written at the back of a letter addressed to me.' Mr. Dering went to the safe and produced the bundle containing all the papers in the case. He unrolled the bundle and placed the contents on the table. Everybody was now serious. Lady Dering looked out of the window no longer. Mrs. Arundel had drawn her chair to the table. Elsie picked out the paper containing the imitations. 'Tell me,' she said, 'if you remember--mind--everybody--this bundle of papers has never been shown to George--tell me the name of your correspondent?' 'It was Leonard Henryson.' She gave the paper to Mr. Dering. 'You see,' she said. The lawyer gave it to his brother, who passed it on to his wife, who gave it to her mother. Mrs. Arundel laid it on the table and raised her veil. 'The next point,' said Elsie, 'is about Athelstan's whereabouts during the last eight years. One letter was received by you, Mr. Dering, four years ago. You have already shown it to me. Will you let me read this letter aloud for all to hear?' It was in the bundle with the stopped notes. He bowed assent--and she read it. 'Twelve thousand pounds!' cried Sir Samuel--'twelve thousand pounds! All he had! Good Heavens?' 'All he had in the world,' said Elsie. 'And all for a child who refused to believe that her brother could be a villain! All he had in the world?' Her eyes filled with tears--but she dashed them aside and went on. 'He was in the States four years ago. That, I suppose, will no longer be denied. The next question is--when did he return to this country?' George left the room again, and returned with a young gentleman.