Professor will let me," said the
widow unexpectedly.

"You! But I thought that you were poor, as we are."

"I was, and I am not very rich now. All the same, I have come in for
some thousands of pounds."

"I congratulate you. A legacy?"

"Yes. You remember how I told you about my brother who was a Pekin
merchant. He is dead."

"Oh, I am so sorry."

"My dear, what is the use of being sorry. I never cry over spilt milk,
or assume a virtue which I have not. My brother and I were almost
strangers, as we lived apart for so many years. However, he came home to
die at Brighton, and a few weeks ago--just after this murder took place,
in fact--I was summoned to his death-bed. He lingered on until last week
and died in my arms. He left me nearly all his money, so I will be able
to help the Professor."

"I don't see why you should," said Lucy, wondering why Mrs. Jasher did
not wear mourning for the dead.

"Oh yes, you do see," remarked the widow, raising her eyes and rubbing
her plump hands together. "I want to marry your father."

Lucy did not express astonishment, as she had understood this for a long
time.

"I guessed as much."

"And what do you say?"

Miss Kendal shrugged her shoulders.

"If my step-father," she emphasized the word--"if my step-father
consents, why should I mind? I am going to marry Archie, and no doubt
the Professor will be lonely."

"Then you do not disapprove of me as a mother."

"My dear Mrs. Jasher," said Lucy, coldly, "there is no relationship
between me and my step-father beyond the fact that he married my
mother. Therefore you can never be my mother. Were I stopping on at the
Pyramids, that question might arise, but as I become Mrs. Hope in six
months, we can be friends--nothing more."

"I am quite content with that," said Mrs. Jasher in a businesslike way.
"After all, I am no sentimentalist. But I am glad that you do not mind
my marrying the Professor, as I don't want you to prevent the match, my
dear."

Lucy laughed.

"I assure you that I have no influence with my father, Mrs. Jasher. He
will marry you if he thinks fit and without consulting me. But," added
the girl with emphasis, "I do not see what you gain in becoming Mrs.
Braddock."

"I may become Lady Braddock," said the widow, dryly. Then, in answer to
the open astonishment on Lucy's face, she hastened to remark: "Do you
mean to say that you don't know your father is heir to a baronetcy?"

"Oh, I know that," rejoined