h great
alacrity. Katherine followed slowly.

"You're to walk up at once; he's in," said the emissary, meeting her at
the top of the stair.

At the door stood Errington, her note in his hand, and a serious, uneasy
expression on his countenance. Katherine was very white; her eyes were
dilated with a look of fear and distress.

"Pray come in," said Errington; and he closed the door behind her. "I
fear you are in some difficulty. You can speak without reserve; I am
quite alone."

Katherine was aware of passing through a small room with doors right and
left, and possessing only a couple of chairs and a small table; through
this Errington led her to his sitting-room, which was almost lined with
books, and comfortably furnished. He placed a chair for her, and
returned to his own seat by a table at which he had been writing.

"The last time I came it was in the hope of assisting _you_ by my
confession; now I have come to beg for your help--" She stopped
abruptly. "My uncle's son George, who was believed to have been killed
by bush-rangers in Australia more than fourteen years ago, has returned,
alive and well."

"But can he prove his identity?"

"I was with Mr. Newton when he came into the office, and the moment Mr.
Newton saw him he started up, exclaiming, 'George Liddell!' and I--I saw
the likeness to his father."

"Did Newton know him formerly?"

"Yes; he seems to have been almost his only friend."

"How was it he did not put in an appearance and assert his rights
before?"

"I will tell you all." And she went on to describe the interview which
had just taken place, the curious vindictive spirit which her cousin
displayed, his very recent knowledge of his father's death, and Mr.
Newton's words of warning, "He has the power to rob you even of the
trifle you inherit from your father, by demanding the arrears of income
since your uncle's death; he can beggar you."

"No doubt he can, but surely he will not!" exclaimed Errington.

"It seems to me that if he can he will. To give him up that which is his
is quite right, and will not cost me a pang; but to be penniless, to
send back my poor dear little boys, to be considered and treated as
burdens by their mother and Colonel Ormonde--oh, I cannot bear it! I
know now Charlie would be crushed and Cecil would be hardened. It is
for this I come to you for help. Mr. Errington, I implore you to produce
the will which puts this cruelty out of George Liddell's power. Surely