"Yes, do, let me share your confidence, at least. I brought you up from pinafores, you know, quite like my own child. Oh, I wish I had one. Why haven't I a child? Now, I know what you're going to say--marriage, of course--but I've never had the chance, nobody wanted to marry me--so odd--I would have made a loving wife--quite like an ivy--really a clinging ivy. Oh, if I could only find my oak." The little lady fluttered tearfully out of the room, leaving Una sitting alone with the letters on her lap, looking out at the dreary scene. She sighed sadly, and gathering the letters together arose from her chair, when just at that moment a ring came to the front-door bell. Una started apprehensively and her pale face grew yet paler, but she said nothing, only stood like a statue by the window with an expectant look upon her face. Hardly had the harsh jingle of the bell ceased to echo through the house when Jellicks entered, and wriggling up to Una, announced in a hissing whisper that Mr. Beaumont desired to see her. "Mr. Beaumont," murmured Una, starting suddenly, "what does he want, I wonder? I'd better see him, it may do some good--some good. Yes!" she said aloud, "I will see him; Jellicks, show Mr. Beaumont into this room." She resumed her seat by the window as Jellicks vanished, and shortly afterwards the door opened and Basil Beaumont, looking haggard and fierce, stood before her. He bowed, but did not attempt any warmer greeting, and she, on her part, simply pointed to a chair near her, upon which he took his seat. "I suppose you are astonished to see me, Miss Challoner?" he said, after a pause. "I confess I am a little," she replied calmly, "I thought you were up in London." "So I was, but I came down to Garsworth yesterday." "Indeed? Our quiet little village must have great attractions to draw you away from London." "I did not come down without an object, Miss Challoner," he said gravely, "I have a duty to fulfil." "Towards whom?" "Yourself. Yes, I came down from London especially to see you." "It's very kind of you to take so much trouble upon my account," she said coldly, looking keenly at him. "May I ask what this duty is to which you allude?" "It is the duty of an honest man towards a wronged woman," said Beaumont quietly. "Meaning me?" "Meaning yourself," he asserted solemnly. "You speak in riddles, Mr. Beaumont," said Una, folding her hands. "I will be very glad if you will explain them." "Certainly. Two months ago your cousin died and left all his property to a supposed son, who turned out to be Reginald Blake; I have now to inform you that Reginald Blake is no connection whatever of Squire Garsworth, consequently his assumption of the property is a fraud." "What do you mean, sir?" said Una quickly. "I understood Mr. Blake's identity was fully established----" "Yes, by Patience Allerby," interrupted Beaumont quickly. "She said he was the son of Fanny Blake and the Squire, knowing such a statement to be false."