the people to make their things. Don't let
them interfere. Down here they've got to choose for themselves. They
wouldn't care about taking advice here, but in London they'd probably
be content to leave it. Take them up to town for a fortnight. Stay
at one of the best hotels, the Berkeley or the Carlton, and let them see
plenty of nice people. And don't be discouraged, uncle."

"Where the devil did you get your common-sense from?" he inquired,
fiercely. "Your mother hadn't got it, and I'll swear your father
hadn't."

She laughed heartily.

"Above all, be firm with them, uncle," she said. "Put your foot down,
and stick to it. They'll obey you.

"Obey me? Good Lord, I'll make 'em," Mr. Bullsom declared,
vigorously. "Mary, you're a brick. I feel quite cheerful. And,
remember this, my girl. I shall make you an allowance, but that's
nothing. Come to me when you want a bit extra, and if ever the young
man turns up, then I've got a word or two to say. Mind, I shall only be
giving you your own. My will's signed and sealed."

She kissed him fondly.

"You're a good sort, uncle," she said. "And now will you tell me what
you think of this letter?"

"Read it to me, dear," he said. "My eyes aren't what they were."

She obeyed him.

"41, BUCKLESBURY, LONDON, E. C.

"DEAR MADAM,

"We have received a communication from our agents at Montreal, asking us
to ascertain the whereabouts of Miss Mary Scott, daughter of Richard
Scott, at one time a resident in that city.

"We believe that you are the young lady in question, and if you will do
us the favour of calling at the above address, we may be able to give
you some information much to your advantage.

"We are, dear madam,

"Yours respectfully,

"JONES AND LLOYD."

Mr. Bullsom stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Sounds all right," he remarked. "Of course you'll go. But I always
understood that your father's relations were as poor as church mice."

"Poorer, uncle! His father--my grandfather, that is--was a clergyman
with barely enough to live on, and his uncle was a Roman Catholic
priest. Both of them have been dead for years."

"And your father--well, I know there was nothing there," Mr. Bullsom
remarked, thoughtfully.

"You cabled out the money to bring me home," Mary reminded him.

"Well, well!" Mr. Bullsom declared. "You must go and see these chaps.
There's no harm in that, at any rate. We must all have that trip to
London. I expect Brooks will be wanting to go a