er in the
face, and whose sole object is to rid himself of an encumbrance,
prating of his paternal responsibilities."

Philip started visibly at her words.

"Ah! Mr. Caresfoot," she went on, "I surprise you by my knowledge, but
we women are sad spies, and it is my little amusement to find out
other people's secrets, a very useful little amusement. I could tell
you many things----"

"I was about to say," broke in Philip, who had naturally no desire to
see more of the secrets of his life unveiled by Lady Bellamy, "that,
even if I did wish to get rid of Angela, I should have little
difficulty in doing so, as young Heigham, who has been stopping at the
Abbey House for a fortnight or so, is head over ears in love with her;
indeed, I should think it highly probable that they are at this moment
engaged."

It was Lady Bellamy's turn to start now.

"Ah!" she said, "I did not know that; that complicates matters." And
then, with a sudden change of tone--"Mr. Caresfoot, as a friend, let
me beg of you not to throw away such a chance in a hurry for the sake
of a few nonsensical ideas abut a girl. What is she, after all, that
she should stand in the way of such grave interests as you have in
hand? I tell you that he is perfectly mad about her. You can make your
own terms and fix your own price."

"Price! ay, that is what it would be--a price for her body and soul."

"Well, and what of it? The thing is done every day, only one does not
talk of it in that way."

"Who taught you, who were once a young girl yourself, to plead such a
cause as this?"

"Nonsense, it is a very good cause--a cause that will benefit
everybody, especially your daughter. George will get what he wants;
you, with the recovery of the estates, will also recover your lost
position and reputation, both to a great extent an affair of landed
property. Mr. Heigham will gain a little experience, whilst she will
bloom into a great lady, and, like any other girl in the same
circumstances, learn to adore her husband in a few months."

"And what will _you_ get, Lady Bellamy?"

"I!" she replied, with a gay laugh. "Oh! you know, virtue is its own
reward. I shall be quite satisfied in seeing everybody else made
happy. Come, I do not want to press you about the matter at present.
Think it over at your leisure. I only beg you not to give a decided
answer to young Heigham, should he ask you for Angela, till I have
seen you again--say, in a week's time. Then, if you do