hat there was no paternal grandmother, but--well, the
fact of the matter is, Cleek, that the late Lord Strathmere did not
altogether approve of his mother-in-law's method of living (he was
essentially a quiet, home-loving man and had little patience with
frivolity of any sort), and it occasioned no surprise among those
who knew him when it was discovered that he had made a will leaving
everything he possessed to his little son and expressly stipulating
that the care and upbringing of the boy were to be entrusted to
his younger brother, the Honourable Felix Camour Paul Carruthers, who
was to enjoy the revenue from the estate until the child attained
his majority."

"I see! I see!" said Cleek, appreciatively. "Then that did her
extravagant ladyship out of a pretty large and steady income for a
matter of seventeen or eighteen years. Humm-m! Wise man--always, of
course, provided that he didn't save the boy from the frying-pan only
to drop him into the fire. What kind of a man is this brother--this
Honourable Felix Carruthers--into whose hands he entrusted the
future of his little son? I seem to have a hazy recollection of
hearing that name, somewhere or somehow, in connection with some
other affair. Wise choice, was it, Mr. Narkom?"

"Couldn't have been better, to my thinking. I know the Honourable
Felix quite well: a steady-going, upright, honourable young fellow
(he isn't over two or three-and-thirty), who, being a second
son, naturally inherited his mother's fortune, and that being
considerable, he really did not need the income from his little
nephew's in the slightest degree. However, he undertook the
charge willingly, for he is much attached to the boy; and he and
his wife--to whom he was but recently married, by the way--entered
into residence at his late brother's splendid property, Boskydell
Priory, just over on the other side of those hills--you can see from
the window, there--where they are at present entertaining a large
house party, among whom are Lady Essington and her son Claude."

"Oho! Then her ladyship has a son, has she? The daughter who died was
not her only child?"

"No. The son was born about a year after the daughter. A nice
lad--bright, clever, engaging; fond of all sorts of dumb
animals--birds, monkeys, white mice--all manner of such things--and
as tender-hearted as a girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Carruthers is
immensely fond of him and has him at the Priory whenever he can.
That, of course, mean