“There was more in the child than we dreamt of,” said Sir Matthew, “She was quiet and gentle and affectionate and I never thought it possible she would show so stubborn a front. Look at the letter. Why old Ewart himself might have penned it. As ill luck would have it, she heard the day before yesterday that changes have been made as to the investment of her money, and I fear she suspects that all is not right. How on earth she came to know anything about the Lord Chancellor and her power of appeal to him I can’t conceive.” “Probably through ‘Iolanthe’ and the ‘such a susceptible Chancellor,’” said Bruce Wylie with a mirthless laugh, “or through some of her beloved Charles Dickens’ novels. The fact is, Mactavish, we educate our girls now-a-days, but expect them to remain fools. Unless we can track Evereld, and force her to obey you, she has the game in her own hands. Great Heaven! just think of it! That little girl can absolutely ruin our career, can give the pinprick which will burst the whole bubble.” It was exasperating to the last degree, and to men who had always taken the lowest view of womanhood, it was wholly perplexing. They went down to the _salle à manger_ trying to look unconcerned, but Miss Upton’s keen eyes read their perturbation. She enjoyed it hugely. “I guess you had a good time yesterday up at the Rochers de Naye?” she said blithely. “Very, thank you,” said Sir Matthew, “though we were all disappointed that my ward was not with us. Have you seen anything of her?” The American girl met his keen gaze without flinching in the least. “She was in the garden for a little while yesterday.” “Ah, indeed,” Sir Matthew was all on the alert. “Did you have any talk with her?” “Well--I inquired after her headache,” said Miss Upton casually. “How is she this morning?” and with perfect _sang froid _she began to eat an egg American fashion, a proceeding which she well knew would make Sir Matthew shudder. “Thank you, she is better,” he said, taking refuge in his cup of coffee. “I’m so glad,” said Miss Upton sweetly. “We must have some more thought-reading this evening, Mr. Wylie. Perhaps Miss Ewart will be able to show me the experiment you were speaking of the other night. You are always successful with her, are you not?” Dick Lewisham at an adjoining table bent low over his newspaper to hide his amusement. “Unfortunately,” said the solicitor, “we are obliged to leave to-day, or it would have given me the greatest pleasure.” “What a mistake to leave just when we are all such a nice, congenial party,” said the American. “Is Miss Ewart really fit to go? She looked so white and ill when I saw her yesterday.” “She has been travelling about in Switzerland some time,” said Sir Matthew, “and will, I think, be glad to settle down at home.”