egard to old Mr.
Snowdon and his affairs. Her mother had from the first suspected that
he possessed money, seeing that he paid, with very little demur, the
sum she demanded for Jane's board and lodging. True, he went to live in
poor lodgings, but that was doubtless a personal eccentricity. An
important piece of evidence subsequently forthcoming was the fact that
in sundry newspapers there appeared advertisements addressed to Joseph
James Snowdon, requesting him to communicate with Messrs. Percival &
Peel of Furnival's Inn, whereupon Mrs. Peckover made inquiries of the
legal firm in question (by means of an anonymous letter), and received
a simple assurance that Mr. Snowdon was being sought for his own
advantage.

'You're cool hands, you and your mother,' observed Joseph James, with a
certain involuntary admiration. 'This was not quite three years ago,
you say; just when I was in America. Ha--hum! What I can't make out is,
how the devil that brother of mine came to leave anything to me. We
never did anything but curse each other from the time we were children
to when we parted for good. And so the old man went out to Australia,
did he? That's a rum affair, too; Mike and he could never get on
together. Well, I suppose there's no mistake about it. I shouldn't much
mind if there was, just to see the face _you'd_ pull, young woman. On
the whole, perhaps it's as well for you that I _am_ fairly
good-tempered--eh?'

Clem stood apart, smiling dubiously, now and then eyeing him askance.
His last words once more put her on her guard; she moved towards the
table again.

'Give me the address,' said her husband. 'I'll go and have a talk with
my relations. What sort of a girl's Janey grown up--eh?'

'If you'll wait a bit, you can see for yourself. She's goin' to call
here at twelve.'

'Oh, she is? I suppose you've arranged a pleasant little surprise for
her? Well, I must say you're a cool band, Clem. I shouldn't wonder if
she's been in the house several times since I've been here?'

'No, she hasn't. It wouldn't have been safe, you see.'

'Give me the corkscrew, and I'll open this bottle of whisky. It takes
it out of a fellow, this kind of thing. Here's to you, Mrs. Clem! Have
a drink? All right; go downstairs and show your mother you're alive
still; and let me know when Jane comes. I want to think a bit.'

When he had sat for a quarter of an hour in solitary reflection the
door opened, and Clem led into the room a young girl