t, heart-breaking suggestions, but quite another to
have them accepted. She did call him dearest Frank, even on that one
day, almost as often as he had desired her.

CHAPTER XLVI

Our Pet Fox Finds a Tail

Frank returned home, and his immediate business was of course with
his father, and with Mr Gazebee, who was still at Greshamsbury.

"But who is the heir?" asked Mr Gazebee, when Frank had explained
that the death of Sir Louis rendered unnecessary any immediate legal
steps.

"Upon my word I don't know," said Frank.

"You saw Dr Thorne," said the squire. "He must have known."

"I never thought of asking him," said Frank, naively.

Mr Gazebee looked rather solemn. "I wonder at that," said he; "for
everything now depends on the hands the property will go into. Let
me see; I think Sir Roger had a married sister. Was not that so, Mr
Gresham?" And then it occurred for the first time, both to the squire
and to his son, that Mary Thorne was the eldest child of this sister.
But it never occurred to either of them that Mary could be the
baronet's heir.

Dr Thorne came down for a couple of days before the fortnight was
over to see his patients, and then returned again to London. But
during this short visit he was utterly dumb on the subject of the
heir. He called at Greshamsbury to see Lady Arabella, and was even
questioned by the squire on the subject. But he obstinately refused
to say more than that nothing certain could be known for yet a few
days.

Immediately after his return, Frank saw Mary, and told her all that
had happened. "I cannot understand my uncle," said she, almost
trembling as she stood close to him in her own drawing-room. "He
usually hates mysteries, and yet now he is so mysterious. He told me,
Frank--that was after I had written that unfortunate letter--"

"Unfortunate, indeed! I wonder what you really thought of me when you
were writing it?"

"If you had heard what your mother said, you would not be surprised.
But, after that, uncle said--"

"Said what?"

"He seemed to think--I don't remember what it was he said. But he
said, he hoped that things might yet turn out well; and then I was
almost sorry that I had written the letter."

"Of course you were sorry, and so you ought to have been. To say that
you would never call me Frank again!"

"I didn't exactly say that."

"I have told him I will wait a fortnight, and so I will. After that,
I shall take the matter into my own hands."