and
everything was left to him; but he trusted, in spite of this untoward
circumstance, long absence might have altered my determination. 'Dear
Lois,' he wrote, 'I _expect_ you to come back to England and marry me!'

I was brief, but categorical. Nothing, meanwhile, had altered my
resolve. I did not wish to be considered mercenary. While he was rich
and honoured, I could never take him. If, some day, fortune
frowned--but, there--let us not forestall the feet of calamity: let us
await contingencies.

Still, I was heavy in heart. If only it had been otherwise! To say the
truth, I should be thrown away on a millionaire; but just think what a
splendid managing wife a girl like me would have made for a penniless
pauper!

At Yokohama, however, while I dawdled in curiosity shops, a telegram
from Harold startled me into seriousness. My chance at last! I knew what
it meant; that villain Higginson!

'Come home at once. I want your evidence to clear my character.
Southminster opposes the will as a forgery. He has a strong case; the
experts are with him.'

Forgery! That was clever. I never thought of that. I suspected them of
trying to forge a will of their own; but to upset the real one--to throw
the burden of suspicion on Harold's shoulders--how much subtler and
craftier!

I saw at a glance it gave them every advantage. In the first place, it
put Harold virtually in the place of the accused, and compelled him to
defend instead of attacking--an attitude which prejudices people against
one from the outset. Then, again, it implied positive criminality on his
part, and so allowed Lord Southminster to assume the air of injured
innocence. The eldest son of the eldest brother, unjustly set aside by
the scheming machinations of an unscrupulous cousin! Primogeniture, the
ingrained English love for keeping up the dignity of a noble family, the
prejudice in favour of the direct male line as against the female--all
were astutely utilised in Lord Southminster's interest. But worst of
all, it was _I_ who had typewritten the will--I, a friend of Harold's, a
woman whom Lord Southminster would doubtless try to exhibit as his
_fiancee_. I saw at once how much like conspiracy it looked: Harold and
I had agreed together to concoct a false document, and Harold had forged
his uncle's signature to it. Could a British jury doubt when a Lord
declared it?

Fortunately, I was just in time to catch the Canadian steamer from Japan
to Vancouver. But