resolutely refused to allow such a marriage to take
place. He objects on the ground of public policy, and I dare say from
his point of view he is right. Meredith has a twenty-years sentence to
serve."

"Then how----" began Lydia.

"Let me tell this story more or less understandably," said Glover with
that little smile of his. "Believe me, Miss Beale, I'm not so keen upon
the scheme as I was. If by chance," he spoke deliberately, "we could get
James Meredith into this house to-morrow morning, would you marry him?"

"Me?" she gasped. "Marry a man I've not seen--a murderer?"

"Not a murderer," he said gently.

"But it is preposterous, impossible!" she protested. "Why me?"

He was silent for a moment.

"When this scheme was mooted we looked round for some one to whom such a
marriage would be of advantage," he said, speaking slowly. "It was
Rennett's idea that we should search the County Court records of London
to discover if there was a girl who was in urgent need of money. There
is no surer way of unearthing financial skeletons than by searching
County Court records. We found four, only one of whom was eligible and
that was you. Don't interrupt me for a moment, please," he said, raising
his hand warningly as she was about to speak. "We have made thorough
inquiries about you, too thorough in fact, because the Briggerlands have
smelt a rat, and have been on our trail for a week. We know that you are
not engaged to be married, we know that you have a fairly heavy burden
of debts, and we know, too, that you are unencumbered by relations or
friends. What we offer you, Miss Beale, and believe me I feel rather a
cad in being the medium through which the offer is made, is five
thousand pounds a year for the rest of your life, a sum of twenty
thousand pounds down, and the assurance that you will not be troubled by
your husband from the moment you are married."

Lydia listened like one in a dream. It did not seem real. She would wake
up presently and find Mrs. Morgan with a cup of tea in her hand and a
plate of her indigestible cakes. Such things did not happen, she told
herself, and yet here was a young man, standing with his back to the
fire, explaining in the most commonplace conversational tone, an offer
which belonged strictly to the realm of romance, and not too convincing
romance at that.

"You've rather taken my breath away," she said after a while. "All this
wants thinking about, and if Mr. Meredith is in prison--