"They're all very well at home--your mother and your sister and Kitty," responded Francis Eversleigh, lingering somewhat on the last word. Glancing away from his son to the window, he remarked casually, "Really, I think Miss Kitty grows prettier and more charming every day." "She is lovely," cried Gilbert, with rising colour. "By the way," observed the father, pointedly, "Harry Bennet came in last evening, and it was not hard to see the attraction." "Miss Kitty?" "Yes." "But Harry Bennet!" said Gilbert, in a voice of protest. "Yes. He stayed quite late." "But you know, sir," objected Gilbert, with a frown, "that Harry is said to be going the pace--making the sparks fly furiously." Francis Eversleigh did not reply. He thought he had given his son a plain enough hint; besides, Bennet was a client of his own, and he did not wish to pursue the subject further. Gilbert walked over to the window and stood there, while his father covertly watched him. Presently he faced round; the frown had disappeared; his expression was confident and eager. Father and son looked at each other. Seen thus together, the family likeness between them was pronounced; seen apart, the differences became prominent. Francis Eversleigh was a tall, stout, florid, handsome man; genial, easy-going, unsuspicious, self-indulgent--not a typical solicitor in appearance or character. Inheriting early in life a fine business, he had gradually allowed himself to give way to a constitutional indolence, a fatality of temperament which Gilbert happily had escaped. Gilbert was tall and fair and good-looking, but he was more slimly made than his father, and was charged with far more vitality and force. He was alert, active, resolute. In brief, he was strong and keen where his father was weak and slack. "It's a glorious day, sir," said Gilbert, "and as it's a Saturday and I have nothing on of importance, I think I'll run over to Surbiton and spend the afternoon and evening. I'll wire mother I'm coming." "What! No work to do!" the father made laughing demur. But he immediately followed with the words, "Well, well, my boy, go and enjoy yourself. It's fine to be young!" What he really meant, of course, was, "Go and see Kitty, you lucky young dog, and good fortune go with you." He knew that Gilbert loved the girl, and there was nothing in all the world he desired more than that Gilbert should succeed in his court to her. As Gilbert turned to leave the room, Cooper Silwood entered it, carrying an open letter in his hand. After Gilbert had withdrawn, Silwood took care to see the door was shut. CHAPTER II "Here is a letter from Morris Thornton," said Silwood, shooting a keen, swift glance at his partner, but it escaped the other's notice. Francis Eversleigh's thoughts, in fact, played pleasantly around his son Gilbert and Kitty Thornton, or if he had seen that look it might have startled him out of the complacent musings which forecast a fortunate ending only.