re sent for to the great house and were questioned. They
declared themselves to be her uncle and aunt--a lie, of course!--and
they were quite willing to let her attend the village school, while they
stayed at Thorpe Ambrose, when the proposal was made to them. The new
arrangement was carried out the next day. And the day after that, the
Oldershaws had disappeared, and had left the little girl on the squire's
hands! She evidently hadn't answered as they expected in the capacity
of an advertisement, and that was the way they took of providing for her
for life. There is the first act of the play for you! Clear enough, so
far, isn't it?"

"Clear enough, Jemmy, to clever people. But I'm old and slow. I don't
understand one thing. Whose child was she?"

"A very sensible question. Sorry to inform you that nobody can answer
it--Miss Gwilt herself included. These Instructions that I'm referring to
are founded, of course, on her own statements, sifted by her attorney.
All she could remember, on being questioned, was that she was beaten and
half starved, somewhere in the country, by a woman who took in children
at nurse. The woman had a card with her, stating that her name was Lydia
Gwilt, and got a yearly allowance for taking care of her (paid through
a lawyer) till she was eight years old. At that time, the allowance
stopped; the lawyer had no explanation to offer; nobody came to look
after her; nobody wrote. The Oldershaws saw her, and thought she might
answer to exhibit; and the woman parted with her for a trifle to the
Oldershaws; and the Oldershaws parted with her for good and all to the
Blanchards. That's the story of her birth, parentage, and education! She
may be the daughter of a duke, or the daughter of a costermonger. The
circumstances may be highly romantic, or utterly commonplace. Fancy
anything you like--there's nothing to stop you. When you've had your
fancy out, say the word, and I'll turn over the leaves and go on."

"Please to go on, Jemmy--please to go on."

"The next glimpse of Miss Gwilt," resumed Bashwood the younger, turning
over the papers, "is a glimpse at a family mystery. The deserted child
was in luck's way at last. She had taken the fancy of an amiable young
lady with a rich father, and she was petted and made much of at the
great house, in the character of Miss Blanchard's last new plaything.
Not long afterward Mr. Blanchard and his daughter went abroad, and took
the girl with them in the capacity