She took a couple of steps forward, gazing wildly in the frank, handsome face before her--a face which lit up with satisfaction as it encountered the earnest gaze of the young girl. "Are you Gertrude?" he exclaimed, advancing with extended hands. "Stop?" said the old lawyer, interposing, as he tried to master the difficulties of his position. "You will excuse me, sir, but you come here an utter stranger. You are, you say, Mr George Harrington." "Certainly. Who doubts it?" "We will not discuss that matter now, sir. Recollect we live in days when impositions are practised." "Oh, I see. Of course. Quite right, my dear sir. As my grandfather's executor, you are bound to be careful. Pray go on." "Mrs Hampton," faltered Gertrude. "Hush, my child; be calm," whispered the old lady. "Then, perhaps, sir, you will give me some proof that you are the gentleman you say." "Proofs? Are any needed?" said the young man laughingly, as if it was absurd that his word should be doubted. "Oh, well, then, first and foremost here I am, George Harrington, my father's son, happily in the flesh, though I have had a very narrow escape from death." "Very good, sir; now some other proof. Gertrude, my child, had you not better retire?" "No, Mr Hampton," said Gertrude firmly. "That's quite right," said the young man, giving her a keen, earnest look, so full of pleased admiration that Gertrude trembled, and her eyes fell. There was something so new in that look. "If any one ought to stay here, Miss Bellwood, it should be you. Well, Mr Hampton, you want proofs?" "Yes, sir--the letters, for instance." "I have only the one I received. The others were stolen from me." "Indeed!" "Yes, sir, with everything of value that I possessed. Hang it all, man, don't look so sceptical." "I beg pardon, sir. Go on. Of course you see I must have proof that you are the gentleman you represent yourself to be." "Well, let me see. I disposed of everything I had before I went upon a hunting expedition, all but a few necessaries, and bought other things suitable for my expedition. These, I regret to say, I have lost, and but for the kindness of some people in the West, I should not have been able to get here." "Then you have nothing you can show?" said the old lawyer. Gertrude looked wildly and inquiringly at their visitor, for vaguely it seemed as if some one had been holding out to her a hand to save her from a fate from which she shrank more and more as the hours glided by, but that, after all, this stretched-out hand was only a delusion and a snare.