atch, and prepared to keep his appointment
with Bertha. He liked Bertha Keys very much; she was always jolly and
good-tempered, and she often tried to smooth over matters when there was
any little difference between himself and Mrs. Aylmer. When he reached
the pier he found her waiting for him. It was a moonlight night, and the
young couple began to pace up and down.

"What is it?" he said at last. "Have you anything special to say?"

"I know you are in a bad humour, and I am not surprised," she said.

"Listen, Miss Keys," said Trevor. He dropped his cigar, and turned and
faced her. "I often feel that I cannot stand this sort of thing much
longer: it is like being in chains. I would much rather talk the matter
out with Mrs. Aylmer, tell her I am very much obliged to her for her
kind intentions with regard to me, but that I would sooner carve out my
own career in life and be indebted to no one."

"And how silly that would be!" said Bertha. "But what do you want Mrs.
Aylmer to do?"

"To let me go. I feel like a captive in her train; it is not manly. I
never felt more annoyed than when she spoke to me as she did this
evening. It is horrid when a woman abuses a girl--such bad taste."

"You know how peculiar she is," said Bertha; "but you suit her better
than anyone I know. You want her to give you money to allow you to live
in town. I am sure I can manage it. I quite understand that you must
hate being tied to her apron-strings."

"It is detestable," said the young man; "and if it were not for my own
mother, who seems so happy about me, and so grateful to Mrs. Aylmer, I
should break with her to-morrow."

"I quite sympathise with you," said Bertha. "You must have money, and
you must go to town. You want to read for the Bar: I will see that it is
arranged. Mrs. Aylmer is rich, but not rich enough for you to live all
your life in idleness. It would break her heart now if you deserted her:
she has gone through much."

"What do you mean?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Why does she dislike Miss Florence Aylmer?"

"I would rather not say."

"But she will tell me herself."

"I shall beg of her not to do so."

"By the way," said Trevor, after a pause, "is this girl Mrs. Aylmer's
niece?"

"She is her niece by marriage. Mrs. Aylmer's husband was Florence
Aylmer's uncle."

"Then in the name of all that is just," cried Trevor impetuously, "why
should I have the fortune which is really meant for Florence Aylmer?
Oh, this