"You mean with Miss Randolph," said Durham. "I devoutly wish he may take a fancy to that lady----" "I think he has," put in Bernard, smiling also. "All the better. If he makes her Lady Conniston, it will be a good day's work. Only marriage will tame Conniston. I have had no end of trouble with him. He _is_ a trial." "Oh, Lucy is a clever girl, and can guide him if she becomes his wife, Mr. Durham. And now that her engagement is broken with Mr. Beryl, I daresay it will come off--the marriage I mean. She seems to be attracted by Lord Conniston." "And small wonder," said Miss Berengaria, entering at this moment. "I really think Conniston is a nice fellow--much better than Bernard, here." "I won't hear that, aunt," said Alice, indignantly. "My dear, I always speak my mind. How are you, Durham?" added the old lady, turning on the dapper solicitor. "You look worried." "Mrs. Gilroy has bolted." Miss Berengaria rubbed her nose. "The deuce take the woman! Why has she done that? I always thought she was a bad lot." "Do you know anything about her, aunt?" "Yes, I do, and much more than she likes. She's a gipsy." "I thought she was," said Durham, remembering the Romany dialect used by the housekeeper, "but she doesn't look like a gipsy." "Well," said Miss Berengaria, rubbing her nose again and taking a seat, "she's not a real gipsy, but I believe some tribe in the New Forest--the Lovels, I understand--picked her up, and looked after her. All I know of her dates from the time she came to Hurseton, with the gipsies. She was then a comely young woman, and I believe Walter Gore admired her." "My father," said Bernard, coloring. "I beg your pardon, my dear," said the old lady. "I can't say good of your father, and I won't say bad, so let me hold my tongue." "No," said Durham, rather to the surprise of the others. "Now you have said so much, Miss Plantagenet, you must say all." "All what?" demanded the old lady, aggressively. "Well, you see, Mrs. Gilroy claims to have married Walter Gore." "Then she's a liar," said Miss Berengaria, emphatically and vulgarly. "Why, Walter was married to your mother, Bernard, at that time." "Are you sure?" he asked eagerly. "Of course I am. I don't make any statements unless I am sure. It was after the marriage; for Sir Simon--I was friends with him then--consulted me about your father having married the Italian woman--begging your pardon again, Bernard. I then learned the date of the marriage and it was quite three years afterwards that Walter saw Mrs. Gilroy. I don't know what she called herself then. But she disappeared, and I understand from Sir Simon she married Walter under the impression he was a single man--drat the profligate!" added Miss Berengaria. "Then the son----" "Son!" echoed the old lady, turning to Durham, who had spoken. "You don't mean to say there is a son?"