land?"

Lydia looked up at the tall figure of the man she had seen in the stalls
the night before her wedding and recognised him instantly.

"Mr. Marcus Stepney, I don't think you have met."

Lydia bowed to a smart looking man of thirty, immaculately attired. He
was very handsome, she thought, in a dark way, but he was just a little
too "new" to please her. She did not like fashion-plate men, and
although the most captious of critics could not have found fault with
his correct attire, he gave her the impression of being over-dressed.

Lydia had not expected to meet Miss Briggerland and her father, although
she had a dim recollection that Mrs. Cole-Mortimer had mentioned her
name. Then in a flash she recalled the suspicions of Jack Glover, which
she had covered with ridicule. The association made her feel a little
uncomfortable, and Jean Briggerland, whose intuition was a little short
of uncanny, must have read the doubt in her face.

"Mrs. Meredith expected to see us, didn't she, Margaret?" she said,
addressing the twittering hostess. "Surely you told her we were great
friends?"

"Of course I did, my dear. Knowing your dear cousin and his dear father,
it was not remarkable that I should know the whole of the family," and
she smiled wisely from one to the other.

Of course! How absurd she was, thought Lydia. She had almost forgotten,
and probably Jack Glover had forgotten too, that the Briggerlands and
the Merediths were related.

She found herself talking in a corner of the room with the girl, and
fell to studying her face anew. A closer inspection merely consolidated
her earlier judgment. She smiled inwardly as she remembered Jack
Glover's ridiculous warning. It was like killing a butterfly with a
steam hammer, to loose so much vengeance against this frail piece of
china.

"And how do you feel now that you're very rich?" asked Jean kindly.

"I haven't realised it yet," smiled Lydia.

Jean nodded.

"I suppose you have yet to settle with the lawyers. Who are they? Oh
yes, of course Mr. Glover was poor Jim's solicitor." She sighed. "I
dislike lawyers," she said with a shiver, "they are so heavily paternal!
They feel that they and they only are qualified to direct your life and
your actions. I suppose it is second nature with them. Then, of course,
they make an awful lot of money out of commissions and fees, though I'm
sure Jack Glover wouldn't worry about that. He's really a nice boy," she
said earnestly, "