‘Oh, I shall make it worth my while to have come. I shall leave you laden with spoil, I can see. There are ever so many things I have seen already that I want, and haven’t got. I shall take cuttings innumerable, with or without your leave. Your orchids make me break the tenth commandment on the spot. I think I must put up an orchid-house myself. Oh yes, I will make a good thing of this visit—never fear!’ ‘If you will let me put up an orchid-house for you, as a slight——’ ‘Stuff and nonsense! I’m not going to let you do anything ridiculous and romantic. Too much glass might be more of a hindrance than a help to the letting of the house in the future. Now look here—we are alone at last: tell me what is the matter, and what it is I can do for you.’ ‘The matter is, that a foreign chap has turned up here—a Signor Pagliadini; he says he knew Phil and me abroad, and I believe that’s true enough, for I know his face, though I can’t recollect him exactly. But he knows, too—of that I am convinced—who I really am, and will not swallow the fiction I try to force upon him. In addition to this, I believe he has a spite against me and comes with a motive; and though he doesn’t speak out, I am pretty certain that he knows a great deal more than he has any business to, and that he means mischief.’ ‘Why?’ ‘By the ugly hints he gives, and by his significant looks and words. And then I came upon him and Mrs. Belassis in deep talk by the roadside; and by the startled look she cast at me, I know of whom it was they were talking.’ ‘We can soon stop the Belassis’ mouths,’ remarked Miss Marjory grimly. ‘I think we can give them ample food for meditation on their own account.’ ‘Have you found anything out about the first wife?’ ‘I have found out that in February, 1850, she was alive and fairly well. I am making inquiries, and I think I soon shall be able to ascertain the date of her death; but it strikes me that your virtuous uncle has run it very fine. I should not wonder if he finds himself in a desperately nasty position.’ ‘Something like what I find myself in now,’ said Tor, shaking his head. ‘Now, don’t you get low about it,’ advised Miss Marjory, with the air of a benignant Minerva. ‘You’ll never do anything if you lose heart. For my part, I rise to the occasion. I know I have a natural talent for intrigue, though circumstances have not hitherto been favourable to its development.’ ‘I am glad you have,’ smiled Tor, ‘for my powers seem deserting me. That confounded Italian—I beg your pardon, but I feel strongly upon the subject—with his smooth tongue and offensive hints, bothers me tremendously. I know he is my enemy, and will injure me if he can.’ ‘Have you ever made an enemy that you know of?’ asked Miss Marjory. Tor reflected a little.