'Yes, but your nom de famille--your family name. You have that?' 'No, no, no,' said the child, emphasising each word with a shake of her head. 'But your papa--' 'He's dorn away travelling on 'ail'oad.' 'Gone travelling on the railroad, has he? Has your mamma gone with him?' 'No, me mamma's at home--been teaching me my 'cripture 'istory.' 'What a kind, good mamma!' said Pauline, with a curling lip. 'And what is your mamma's name, dear?' 'Misse C'axton, 'Ose Tottage, 'Endon, Mid'sex,' said the child, all in a breath, the sentence being evidently the result of much practice. Mrs. Claxton, the wife of the man at whose request Mr. Calverley had given the two thousand pounds to Tom Durham. Ah, how Pauline's heart bounded, and how the colour flushed into her swarthy cheeks, at hearing those words! She had been right, then; the instinct that so seldom deserted her had served her truly in this instance. She had felt all along that the secret business on which Martin Gurwood had been engaged had some reference to her affairs, and now she had proved it. What were the relations between Martin Gurwood and Mrs. Claxton? Pshaw! Had her steady business-like brain taken to weaving romances? What more likely than that Mrs. Calverley's son should come out to seek an interview on business matters with the wife of her dead husband's partner? Stay, though--with the partner, yes; but the child had said that Mr. Claxton was away travelling on business. Pauline knew of her own knowledge that Mrs. Calverley had never seen Mr. Claxton, much less his wife, and recognised at once that had business been the object of the interview, it was Mr. Jeffreys who would have been dispatched to seek an interview with the partner, and not Mr. Gurwood to see the wife. The mystery still remained in fullest force, and had yet to be elucidated by her. Of what more use could the child be to her? The child, who, seeing her newly-found friend immersed in her own thoughts, had again turned to her ball. There might be still some more information to be obtained, and Pauline would try and gain it. 'And so your papa is not at home?' she commenced. 'Tavelling on 'ail'oad,' said the child, making the ball bound again. 'And your mamma is all alone?' 'Not all alone now, gemply tum. Mamma thought it was papa, and me got off 'cripture 'istory. Me saw it was strange gemply, and run off wif my ball.' 'A strange gentleman, eh?' said Pauline. 'Did you never see him before?' 'Me never saw him before; me wish he would always come at lesson-time.' 'And how long has your papa been away from home?' 'Two, free weeks, two, free months. Me frow my ball to you, and you frow me back again.' As she spoke the ball came bounding across the hedge. Pauline took it up and threw it back to the child. 'Do you know Mr. Calverley, dear?' she asked, as Bell stood with the ball in her hand, ready to launch it at her again.