"Oh--ay--the wedding," spoke Mr. Peter Castlemaine, with the air of a man who has just caught up some recollection that had slipped from him. "I don't know yet: we shall see: no time has been decided on." "Close as his brother" thought Mrs. Castlemaine. "No likelihood, that he will disclose anything unless he chooses." "Will James be coming in to Stilborough to-morrow?" asked the banker. "I'm sure I cannot tell. He goes out and comes in, you know, without any reference to me. I should fancy he would not be coming in, unless he has anything to call him. He has not seemed well to-day; he thinks he has caught a cold." "Ah, then I daresay that's the secret of his staying at home to-night," said Mr. Peter Castlemaine. "Yes, it may be. I did not think of that. And he has also been very much annoyed to-day: and you know, Peter, if once James is thoroughly put out of temper, it takes some little time to put him in again." The banker nodded assent. "What has annoyed him?" "A very curious thing," replied Mrs. Castlemaine: "you will hardly believe it when I tell you. Some young man----" Breaking off suddenly, she glanced around to make sure that no one was within hearing. Then drawing nearer to the banker, went on in a lowered voice: "Some young man presented himself this morning at Greylands' Rest, pretending to want to put in a claim to the estate." Abstracted though the banker had been throughout the brief interview, these words aroused him to the quick. In one moment he was the calm, shrewd, attentive business man, Peter Castlemaine, his head erect, his keen eyes observant. "I do not understand you, Mrs. Castlemaine." "Neither do I understand," she rejoined. "James said just a word or two to me, and I gathered the rest." "Who was the young man?" "Flora described him as wearing a coat trimmed with fur; and Miles thought he spoke with somewhat of a foreign accent," replied Mrs. Castlemaine, deviating unconsciously from the question, as ladies sometimes do deviate. "But don't you know who he was? Did he give no account of himself?" "He calls himself Anthony Castlemaine." As the name left her lips a curious kind of change, as though he were startled, passed momentarily over the banker's countenance. But he neither stirred nor spoke. "When the card was brought in with that name upon it--James happened to be in the red parlour, talking with me about a new governess--I said it must be an old card of your father's that somebody had got hold of. But it turned out not to be that: and, indeed, it was not like the old cards. What he wants to make out is, that he is the son of Basil Castlemaine." "Did James see him?" "Oh dear yes, and their interview lasted more than an hour." "And he told James he was Basil's son?--this young man."