choice. It must be said that, for a dilettante, Sir John acted with surprising promptitude. He took the two women to his own house, and let the mansion at Hampstead to an Australian millionaire, who paid an excellent rent. Then he saw the lawyers, and went into details concerning the property. Luckily, Sir Charles had gradually withdrawn from business a few years before his death, since he had more or less concentrated his mind on politics. Therefore, the income was mostly well invested, and, with the exception of the line of steamers with which Mrs. Brown's son had been concerned, there were few interests which required personal supervision. Sir John, having power under the will, sold the dead man's interest in the ships, withdrew from several other speculations, and having seen that the securities, which meant fifty thousand a year to Lillian, and ten thousand a year to himself, were all in good order, he settled down to enjoy himself. The lawyers--on whom he kept an eye--received the money and banked it, and consulted with Sir John regarding reinvestments. They also, by the new baronet's direction, offered a reward of £1,000 for the discovery of the murderess. So, shortly after the New Year everything was more or less settled, and Sir John found himself able to attend once more to his lace and jewels, his music and poetry. Only Lillian's marriage remained to be arranged, and after his conversation with the girl, Sir John appointed a day for Dan to call. That young gentleman, who had been hovering round, lost no time in obeying the summons, which was worded amiably enough, and presented himself in due time. Sir John received Halliday with great affability, offered him a chair and a cigarette, and came to the point at once. "It's about Lillian I wish to see you, Mr. Halliday," he remarked, placing the tips of his fingers delicately together. "You can go up to the drawing-room afterwards and have tea with her and with Mrs. Bolstreath. But we must have a chat first to adjust the situation." "What situation?" asked Dan, wilfully dense. "Oh, I think you understand," rejoined Sir John, drily. "Well?" "I love her," was all that Dan could find to say. "Naturally. Lillian is a charming girl, and you are a young man of discernment. At least, I hope so, as I wish you to give Lillian up." Dan rose and pitched his cigarette into the fire. "Never," he cried, looking pale and determined and singularly virile and handsome. "How can you ask such a thing, Mr. Moon--I mean Sir John." "My new title doesn't come easily I see," said the baronet smoothly. "Oh, I quite understand. My poor brother died so unexpectedly that none of us have got used to the new order of things. You least of all, Mr. Halliday." "Why not 'Dan'?" asked that young gentleman, leaning against the mantelpiece since he felt that he could talk better standing than sitting.