time,
however roughly. Think what your misery would have been if you had
discovered after your marriage that her heart had never been really
yours."

"I cannot imagine that possible. I have no shadow of doubt that I should
have succeeded in winning her heart if this man had not robbed me of her.
My absence gave him his opportunity. Had I been at hand to protect my own
interests, I do not think his influence could have prevailed against me."

"It is quite natural that you should think that," John Saltram said
gravely. "Yet you may be mistaken. A woman's love is such a capricious
thing, and so often bestowed upon the least deserving amongst those who
seek it."

After this they were silent for some time, and then Gilbert told his
friend about his acquaintance with Jacob Nowell, and the old man's futile
endeavours to find his grandchild; to all of which Mr. Saltram listened
attentively.

"Then you fancy there is a good bit of money in question?" he said, when
Gilbert told him everything.

"I fancy so. But I have no actual ground for the belief. The place in
which the old man lives is poor enough, and he has carefully abstained
from any hint as to what he might leave his granddaughter. Whatever it
is, Marian ought to have it; and there is very little chance of that,
unless she comes forward in response to Mr. Nowell's advertisements."

"It is a pity she should lose the chance of this inheritance, certainly,"
said Mr. Saltram.

And then the conversation changed, and they talked of other subjects
until it was time for them to part.

John Saltram walked back to the Temple in a very sombre mood, meditating
upon his friend's trouble.

"Poor old Gilbert," he said to himself, "this business has touched him
more deeply than I could have thought possible. I wish things had
happened otherwise. What is it Lady Macbeth says? 'Naught's had, all's
spent, when our desire is got without content.' I wonder whether the
fulfilment of one's heart's desire ever does bring perfect contentment? I
think not. There is always something wanting. And if a man comes by his
wish basely, there is a taint of poison in the wine of life that
neutralizes all its sweetness."

CHAPTER XIII.

MRS. PALLINSON HAS VIEWS.

At seven o'clock on Sunday evening, as the neighbouring church bells were
just sounding their last peal, Mr. Fenton found himself on the threshold
of Mrs. Branston's house in Cavendish-square. It was rather a gloomy
mansi