discreet mother-in-law
picked it up. It could do no more harm now, and there might be reasons
for keeping the husband's proposal. "Unless I am very much mistaken,"
Mrs. Presty concluded, "we shall hear more from the lawyer before long."
She locked up the letter, and wondered what her daughter would do next.

In half an hour Mrs. Linley returned--pale, silent, self-contained.

She seated herself at her desk; wrote literally one line; signed it
without an instant's hesitation, and folded the paper. Before it was
secured in the envelope, Mrs. Presty interfered with a characteristic
request. "You are writing to Mr. Linley, of course," she said. "May I
see it?"

Mrs. Linley handed the letter to her. The one line of writing contained
these words: "I refuse positively to part with my child.--Catherine
Linley."

"Have you considered what is likely to happen, when he gets this?" Mrs.
Presty inquired.

"No, mamma."

"Will you consult Randal?"

"I would rather not consult him."

"Will you let me consult him for you?"

"Thank you--no."

"Why not?"

"After what Randal has written to me, I don't attach any value to his
opinion." With that reply she sent her letter to the post, and went back
again to Kitty.

After this, Mrs. Presty resolved to wait the arrival of Herbert Linley's
answer, and to let events take their course. The view from the window
(as she passed it, walking up and down the room) offered her little
help in forecasting the future. Kitty had returned to her fishing; and
Kitty's mother was walking slowly up and down the pier, deep in thought.
Was she thinking of what might happen, and summoning the resolution
which so seldom showed itself on ordinary occasions?

Chapter XXV. Consultation.

No second letter arrived. But a telegram was received from the lawyer
toward the end of the week.

"Expect me to-morrow on business which requires personal consultation."

That was the message. In taking the long journey to Cumberland, Mrs.
Linley's legal adviser sacrificed two days of his precious time in
London. Something serious must assuredly have happened.

In the meantime, who was the lawyer?

He was Mr. Sarrazin, of Lincoln's Inn Fields.

Was he an Englishman or a Frenchman?

He was a curious mixture of both. His ancestors had been among the
persecuted French people who found a refuge in England, when the
priest-ridden tyrant, Louis the Fourteenth, revoked the Edict of Nantes.
A British subject