“The title I can’t help,” continued Guy. “The estates I don’t want. I’ve made enough of my own, and I shall make more. I don’t know how things can be done, legally, but anyhow, as soon as I come into the property I intend to make it over, somehow or other—we’ll set the lawyers to work—to you two. You can look on it as your own, from this out. Understand?” Harry started and looked at his sister. But Valencia was looking at Guy. “Generous of you!” she said suddenly. “But—why do you come to tell us this, now?” “Because I’m going off to America, on business—New York, two or three other places, in a day or two, and shan’t be back for quite a year—maybe more,” answered Guy. “And I wanted you to know, in case anything happens. If my father dies—well, Harry’ll just carry on, and when I come back we’ll do things legally. Markenmore is to be yours—I don’t want it. You hear?—and you hear, too, Braxfield?” “I hear, sir,” answered the butler. “There’s nothing of Markenmore that I want,” continued Guy, “except one thing—and I want that now. Harry,” he went on, pulling out a small key, “you know my old room? Run up there, unlock the right-hand drawer of the bureau in the corner, and bring me a green leather pocket-book that you’ll see there—that’s what I want. Good boy!” He glanced at Valencia when Harry had taken the key and gone, and saw that she was staring hard at his right hand. “Well?” he asked, with a light laugh. “What are you looking at?” Valencia remained silent for a moment. Then she spoke—abruptly. “I’m looking at that queer ring on your third finger!” she answered. CHAPTER III GREY DAWN Braxfield, who, from his retired position in the background was watching Guy Markenmore with inquisitive eyes, saw him start a little at Valencia’s direct intimation. The start was followed by a laugh which was not exactly spontaneous. “Well?” said Guy. “What about the ring? It’s—simply a ring.” “Just so—a ring,” remarked Valencia. “But—a peculiar one. And I know somebody who has one that’s a precise duplicate of it.” “Who?” asked Guy. “Mrs. Tretheroe,” replied Valencia. “She always wears it. I thought it was some ring she’d picked up in India. But—yours is just the same. Odd!—that you should both have rings which are exactly alike.” “So Mrs. Tretheroe comes here?” suggested Guy. “Of course! Didn’t we all know her before she was married,” answered Valencia. “So far as I remember, you and she used to go about together a good deal.” Guy yawned, but it seemed to his sister that the yawn was affected. “Forgotten pretty nearly everything about those days!” he said, with an attempt at unconcern. “Long time ago—and I’ve been otherwise engaged since I left here.” Valencia turned and looked at Braxfield. “See if anything’s being wanted upstairs, Braxfield,” she said, with a meaning glance. “You might sit with Sir Anthony a bit—make some excuse if he wants either of us.” Braxfield took the hint and disappeared, and Valencia turned to her brother.