"What an amazed boy that will be, Mr. Wrenn," remarked Mrs. Wilbur. "What is his name?" "Herbert Loring Gayne." "H'm. I suppose his mother had all sorts of hope that with a son of that name she could placate her father." "Doubtless she did," replied the lawyer, "and I wish it might have proved so. Perhaps they would both have been alive to-day had she succeeded, but my old friend Loring never mentioned her to me and I don't know what efforts she made. There must be a good deal of delay before the young heir can come into his own." "I suppose so," sighed Mrs. Wilbur. "That tiresome law moves slowly." Diana looked up with sudden attention. "But we must not be dilatory in rescuing the boy." Mr. Wrenn nodded. "If he is proved to be the right one." "There can be no doubt of it," said Mrs. Lowell. "Not to charming, sympathetic ladies, of course," returned the lawyer with a smile. "I feel that every day counts," said Mrs. Lowell. "He must be removed from that mental malaria as soon as possible." "I will--" began Diana, and then she glanced at her mother,--"I mean Mamma will gladly finance him, I'm sure, for the present." "Perhaps," said Mrs. Wilbur with dignity, "when you see fit to tell me the whole story. I'm sure I haven't it yet." "There is no reason to burden you, Mamma, with disagreeable considerations," said Diana meekly. "I can myself look after the boy's needs." "Yes, she can," said Mrs. Wilbur in an offended tone. "What do you think, Mr. Wrenn, of a father who insists on giving a young girl an unlimited check-book, not requiring her to give any account of what she does with money?" The lawyer smiled at the embarrassed culprit. "I think that your husband has proved himself a very good reader of character all through his career." Mrs. Wilbur bounced back into her corner. She didn't intend to bounce; she intended to lean back gracefully, with an air of renouncing all interest in this matter which had proceeded so far without her coöperation, but just at that moment the car went over a "thank-you-ma'am." As has already been said, Luther Wrenn, the following morning, sought his office at an earlier hour than was customary, and Nicholas Gayne was there before him. He did not keep him waiting long, and the stocky figure and dark face soon appeared in the private office. The lawyer regarded the stranger over his eye-glasses. "I didn't have any card," said the visitor. "My name is Gayne, Nicholas Gayne." "Be seated, sir. What is your errand?" "I would like to be present at the reading of the Herbert Loring will." The speaker's manner was confident, and he seemed endeavoring to repress excitement. "Indeed? Are you a relative?"