“What, then, are the powers of a guardian? To express this in the simplest way, so that you can understand those powers perfectly, a guardian stands, as the law has it, _in loco parentis_--which means that he is the same as a father. The father dies; he perpetuates his authority by handing it over to another. He is not dead, then. The _man_ dies, but the _father_ lives in the person of the guardian whom he may have appointed. Such,” said Mr. Barber, with indescribable emphasis--“such, Miss Dalton, is the LAW. You must know,” he continued, “that the law is very explicit on the subject of guardianship. Once make a man a guardian and, as I have remarked, he forthwith stands _in loco parentis_, and the ward is his child in the eye of the LAW. Do you understand?” “Yes,” said Edith, in a despondent tone. She felt disappointment and discouragement at hearing all this, and could only hope that there would be something yet which would open better prospects. “Such, then, are the powers of a guardian,” continued Barber. “They are very strong, and that will, by giving you guardians, has tied you up.” “But I am of age,” said Edith, meekly. Barber waved his hand slightly. “That,” said he, “is a point which I shall consider presently. Just now I will say this--that the framer of that will considered all these points, and arranged that the guardianship should continue until such time as you might obtain another guardian of another kind, before whom all others are powerless.” “But who are my guardians?” asked Edith, in great excitement, unable any longer to repress her curiosity. “One is Wiggins, I know. Who is the other?” “One,” said Barber, “is, as you say, John Wiggins; the other is Sir Lionel Dudleigh.” “Sir Lionel Dudleigh!” exclaimed Edith, while a feeling of profound satisfaction came to her. “Oh, how glad I am!” “It is indeed a good thing that it is so,” said Barber; “but, unfortunately, he can not at present be of service. For where is he? He is in parts unknown. He is out of the country. He is, for the present, the same as though he were dead. It is not probable that he has heard of your father's death, or of the existence of this will, unless, indeed, Mr. Wiggins has taken the trouble to find out where he is, and send him the information. That, however, is not likely. How, then, is it with you? You have, in point of fact, at the present time virtually but _one guardian_. He is here on the spot. He is exerting his authority, and you assert, I think, that he subjects you to a sort of imprisonment. Miss Dalton, he has a right to do this.” Saying this, Barber was silent for a moment, and looked at Edith, and then at the floor. On the other hand she looked steadfastly at him; but her hand trembled, and an expression of utter hopelessness came over her face. “Is that all that you have to tell me?” she said at last, in a despairing voice.