"Perfectly clear," said Conniston, "and I am glad I know this. May I tell Bernard and Durham?" "Certainly. I want to do all I can to help Bernard." "Ah, you are a good woman," said Conniston, eagerly. "I wonder if you could make a chap good?" "It depends upon the chap," said Lucy, shyly. "I know a chap who----" "Please stop, Lord Conniston," cried Lucy, starting up in confusion. "I have heaps and heaps to do. You prevent my working." Her hurried flight prevented Conniston from putting the question on that occasion. But he was not daunted. He resolved to propose as soon as possible. But Lucy thought he was making love too ardently, and by those arts known to women alone, she managed to keep him at arm's length. She was anxious that Bernard should be cleared, that he should take up his rightful position, and should receive back the Hall from her, before Lord Conniston proposed. Of course, Lucy was ready to accept him, but, sure of her fish, she played with him until such time as she felt disposed to accept his hand and heart and title and what remained of the West fortune. Conniston, more determined than ever to win this adorable woman, came over regularly. But Lucy skilfully kept him off the dangerous ground, whereby he fell deeper in love than ever. Then one day, she appeared with a blue-covered book, the contents of which so startled them that love-making was postponed to a more convenient season. "Fancy," said Lucy, running to meet Conniston one afternoon as soon as he appeared at the drawing-room door, "I have found the diary of Mrs. Gilroy." "That's a good thing," said Conniston, eagerly. "She knows more of the truth than anyone else. We must read her diary." "Will that be honorable?" said Lucy, retaining her hold of the book. "Perfectly. One does not stand on ceremony when a man's neck is at stake. Mrs. Gilroy's diary may save Bernard's life. She knew too much about the murder, and fled because she thought Durham would come and question her." "Oh! Was that why she ran away?" "Yes! A woman like Mrs. Gilroy does not take such a course for nothing. She's a clever woman." "And a very disagreeable woman," said Lucy, emphatically. "But what did she know?" Conniston wriggled uneasily. He was not quite certain whether he ought to tell Lucy all that had been discovered, and, had he not been in love with her, he would probably have held his tongue. But, after some reflection, he decided to speak out. "You are, of course, on Bernard's side," he said. "Yes. And against Julius, who hates Bernard. I will do anything I can to help Bernard. I am sure you can see that," she added in a most reproachful manner. "I know--I know. You are the truest and best woman in the world," said Conniston, eagerly, "but what I have to tell you is not my own secret. It concerns Bernard." "Then don't tell me," said Lucy, coloring angrily.