"Tush! you know what I mean," retorted the old gentleman. "You ought to be looking out for a wife. What do you suppose I was thinking the other day, Frank? that it might be a good thing if you and that young lady at Heron Dyke made a match of it. It would heal the family feud, and--and bring all the money on both sides into one bag." Frank looked at his father in some surprise. "The young lady at Heron Dyke?" repeated he. "Why, yes," said the old gentleman, testily. "That half-cousin of yours, Miss Ella Winter." "Did you ever see her, sir?" asked Frank. "No: how should I? I might as well ask for a sight of the man in the moon." "I confess that I should like to see Miss Winter," said Frank. "Zounds! man, why don't you do so, then?" Frank shook his head. "My respected kinsman would not like to catch me prowling about his preserves at Heron Dyke." "The young men nowadays are nothing better than a set of molly-coddles," grumbled Mr. Denison with a tinge of contempt. "When I was a young spark--but where's the use of talking?" he abruptly broke off; and Frank laughed again. "Do you know what day this is, Frank?" presently resumed Mr. Denison. "I am not likely to forget it, father. It is the twenty-fourth of April: and Squire Denison of Heron Dyke is now seventy years old." "Yes--if he is alive," said Mr. Denison, grimly. The tone was significant, and Frank stared across the table at his father. "Have you any reason, sir, for thinking that he is not alive?" "I have reason to know that he was given up months ago by his medical attendant, and that he has never once crossed his own threshold since last December. I have reason to know, moreover, that there is something very inexplicable going on inside the Hall: and, remembering what sort of man my cousin Gilbert is, I feel sure that he would stick at nothing to keep me and mine out of the estate." Frank was silent for a moment or two. "How did you come by this information, father?" "Oh, I put Charles Plackett on the matter a couple of years ago; not but that he knew for himself what a wily fellow my cousin Gilbert was; and Plackett has been following the scent ever since. He has employed an agent at Nullington, one Nixon, to keep his eyes open on Heron Dyke; and Nixon has done it, so far as outside vigilance goes, for he cannot get inside; and has sent up his reports to Charles Plackett from time to time. Perhaps you'd like to hear what he says?" "Why yes, I should, very much indeed," replied Frank. Charles Plackett--of the firm of Plackett, Plackett and Rex--was the family solicitor. Mr. Denison had the breakfast things taken away, and then produced a case of papers. "They date from a good while back," he observed; "but I will just read you two or three extracts from the past few months." Frank rose and shut the door. And Mr. Denison, rubbing his spectacles, put them on, and began.