f my mother by another man," said Hugh
Ritson.

The guests twisted about. "Ah, that explains all," they whispered.

"You will be surprised to learn that my mother's husband by a former
invalid marriage was no other than Robert Lowther, and that he who sits
with us now as Paul Ritson is really Paul Lowther."

At this, Hugh placed two further documents on the table.

Drayton cleared his throat noisily.

"Dear me, dear me! yet it's plain enough!" said one of the visitors.

"Then what about Mrs. Ritson--Miss Greta, I mean?" asked another.

"She is Paul Lowther's half-sister, and therefore his marriage with her
must be annulled."

The three gentlemen turned in their seats and looked amazed, Drayton
still smoked in silence. Bonnithorne did not raise his head.

"He will relinquish to me my father's estates, but he is not left
penniless," continued Hugh Ritson. "By his own father's will he inherits
five thousand pounds."

Drayton snorted contemptuously, then spat on the floor.

"Friends," said Hugh Ritson again, "there is only one further point, and
I am loath to touch on it. My brother--I speak of Paul Lowther--on
taking possession of the estates, exercised what he believed to be his
legal right to mortgage them. I am sorry to say he mortgaged them
deeply."

There was an interchange of astute glances.

"If I were a rich man, I should be content to be the loser, but I am a
poor man, and am compelled to ask that those mortgages stand forfeit."

"Is it the law?"

"It is--and, as you will say, only a fair one," Hugh answered.

"Who are the mortgagees?"

"That is where the pity arises--the chief of them is no other than the
daughter of Robert Lowther--Greta."

Sundry further twists and turns. "Pity for her." "Well, she should have
seen to his title. Who was her lawyer?"

"Her father's executor, our friend Mr. Bonnithorne."

"How much does she lose?"

"I'm afraid a great deal--perhaps half her fortune," said Hugh.

"No matter; it's but fair, Mr. Ritson is not to inherit an estate
impoverished by the excesses of the wrong man."

Drayton's head was still bent, but he scraped his feet restlessly.

"I have only another word to say," said Hugh. "In affairs of this solemn
nature, it is best to have witnesses, or perhaps I should have preferred
to confer with Paul and Mr. Bonnithorne in private." He dropped his
voice and added: "You see, there is my poor mother; and though, in a
sense, she is no longer of this