"Oh, no, no," Mary said with a shudder. "I detest him. He is so cold and calculating, you cannot chock him off. I thought that when I refused to marry him----" "Ha! I expected something of the kind. Mayfield is not the man to take 'No' for an answer once he has set his heart upon a thing. I told you before that he was a scoundrel, and I am in a position to prove it. Not that the fellow has done anything to bring himself within the grip of the law--your City rascal is too clever for that. And your father is afraid of him; he watches him as a dog watches his master. If he is in the power of that man he must get out without delay. He must raise money on the property----" "He can't," Mary said sadly. "My father has not taken me into his confidence. But you can see how much he has aged and altered lately, and you looked quite shocked when you met this morning. I don't know what it is, but I feel that some evil is impending over him. That is why I asked you to be my friend. You see my father is not really a rich man. He has the income of this fine estate, it is true. I believe he could get rid of Horace Mayfield if he could raise money on the property, but that is impossible. Old Sir Ralph, my great uncle, had a serious quarrel with his wife--that is the present dowager Lady Dashwood, you understand. It must have been all Sir Ralph's fault, for she is the dearest old lady. The heir to the property took the side of his mother when the separation came, and left Dashwood Hall, declaring that he would never see the place again. There is only one man living who knows the whole facts of the case, and that is Slight. But his lips are sealed. The old man loved young Ralph Dashwood as if he had been his own child. Ralph the younger went off to America, and has never been heard of again. That was forty years ago. When old Sir Ralph died two years ago, and my father came into the property, no will could be found. So my father, being next of kin, succeeded to the property and the rents of the estate. It is a settled estate, and each possessor has only what is called a life-interest in it. Now it is just possible that some day an heir will turn up. It is more than likely that young Ralph Dashwood married in America, and left a family. Or he may be still alive, and is waiting to claim, for his son, that which he declined to touch himself. Most people know this, and that is why my father could never raise a penny on the family property. If he could, he would not long remain under the heel of Horace Mayfield. Oh, if we could only find a way!" "I begin to understand," Ralph said thoughtfully. "If old Sir Ralph had died leaving a will, things might have been very different. Is that what you mean?"