"What you suggest is impossible, Lady Clavering. We are enlisted in the interests--I speak professionally--of the other side, and have already advised with Sir Edmund as to the steps to be taken in the suit you purpose to enter against him. To leave him for you, after doing so, would be dishonourable and impossible." She shot another glance at me from those mischievous eyes. "I will make it well worth your while, I repeat, Mr. Strange." I could look mischievous too, if I pleased; perhaps did on occasion; but she could read nothing in my gaze then, as it met hers, that was not sober as old Time. "I can only repeat my answer, Lady Clavering." Not a word spoke she; only made play with her eyes. Did the woman mean to subdue me? Her gaze dropped. "I have heard Mr. Brightman speak of Charles Strange not only as a thorough lawyer, but as a _gentleman_--very fond of the world's vanities." "Not very fond, Lady Clavering. Joining in them occasionally, in proper time and place." "I met you once at a large evening party. It was at old Judge Tartar's," she ran on. "Indeed!" I answered, not remembering it. "It was before I married Sir Ralph. You came in with your relative, Serjeant Stillingfar. What a charming man he is! I heard you tell someone you had just come down from Oxford. _Won't_ you act for me, Mr. Strange?" "Indeed, it does not lie in my power." "Well, I did not think a gentleman"--with another stress upon the word--"would have refused to act on my behalf." "Lady Clavering must perceive that I have no alternative." "Who is Edmund Clavering that he should be preferred to me?" she demanded with some vehemence. "Nay, Lady Clavering, circumstances compel the preference." A silence ensued, and I glanced at my watch--the lawyer's hint. She did not take it. "Can you tell me whether, amidst the papers Mr. Brightman held belonging to Sir Ralph, there are any letters of mine?" "I cannot say." "Some of my letters, to Sir Ralph and others, are missing, and I think they must have got amongst the papers by mistake. Will you look?" "I will take an early opportunity of doing so." "Oh, but I mean now. I want them. Why cannot you search now?" I did not tell her why. In the first place, most of the Clavering papers were in the room where Mr. Brightman was lying--and there were other reasons also. "I cannot spare the time, Lady Clavering: I have an appointment out of doors which I must keep. I will search for you in a day or two. But should any letters of yours be here--of which I assure you I am ignorant--you will pardon my intimating that it may not be expedient to give them up." "What do you mean? Why not?" "Should they bear at all upon the cause at issue between you and Sir Edmund Clavering----" "But they don't," she interrupted. "Then, if they do not, I shall be happy to enclose them to you." "It is of the utmost consequence to me that I should regain possession of them," she said, with suppressed agitation.