ur son of his
rights?"

"Yes," she replied, with a smile; "it is Crown Anstey I love, and I
would rather be the wife than the mother of the master of Crown Anstey."

"You are a wicked woman," he said, sternly.

"I am a successful one," she retorted. "Pray, Sir John, examine all
these proofs at your earliest convenience; I am anxious to take my place
as mistress of my own house; I am anxious to have my child here in his
own home."

We all rose; no words can express my emotions. It was not the fortune,
God knows--not the fortune; but I knew when I lost that I lost Agatha.

I felt my face growing white as death itself and my hands trembled.

"One moment," I said. "A year ago the doctor told me if my sister kept
up her strength, and had nothing to make her either anxious nor unhappy,
she would in all probability recover. Now, whether this story be true or
false, I pray you all, for God's sake, keep it from her!"

"I shall not mention it," said Coralie.

"Do not despair, Edgar," said Sir John. "I do not believe--I never
shall!"

"I wrote to London last night," continued Coralie, "for Mr. Dempster,
who was Sir Barnard's lawyer on one or two occasions. You, of course,
Mr. Edgar Trevelyan, will retain the services of the family solicitors."

"I shall need no solicitors if your story be true. I shall not seek to
defraud Miles' son of his birthright; I shall yield it to him."

"You will find it true in every particular," she said; "and remember
always that it is your own fault I have told it."

With that parting shot she quitted the room.

"My poor boy," said Sir John, "this is a terrible blow to you."

"I am afraid," said Lady Thesiger, "that this abominable woman has
spoken the truth. I always thought poor Miles had something on his
mind--some secret. I told him so one day, and he did not deny it."

My darling came up to me with her sweet, pale face and outstretched
hands.

"Never mind, Edgar," she said. "If you lose Crown Anstey I will try to
love you all the more to make up for it."

What could I do but bless her and thank her? Yet I knew--God help me, I
knew in losing my fortune I lost her!

CHAPTER XII.

The little party that had so gayly assembled in the old library broke up
in the deepest gloom. Sir John was the only one who seemed at all
incredulous.

"Rely upon it," he said, "that, after all, it is some trick of the
French woman."

But Lady Thesiger had no such hope.

"I felt sure th