t over and over again; but now I wish
to give up my trust. I have it here in American bonds, fifty thousand
dollars."

"Fifty thousand!"

"Just that. I wish you to take this to the young lady, to whom it
rightfully belongs, and place it in her own hands, with the simple
statement that it is hers. Will you oblige me in this?"

"First tell me who the young lady is."

"Lady Clara, the daughter of Lord Hope, of Oakhurst."

"The daughter of a lord! My dear sir, I shall be too happy!"

"But there is a condition. I do not wish the lady to guess where this
money comes from. You must be understood as the agent, who has invested
and increased it from a small property left in New York by a relative.
This will work you no harm, but, on the contrary, win for you favor and
gratitude from as noble a lady as ever lived."

"Will it get an invitation to Oakhurst for myself and Mrs. Stacy? That
is a thing I should like to mention incidentally, to the Board of
Aldermen when they give me a public reception in the Governor's Room.
Will it bring about something of that kind?"

"That I cannot tell. The young lady is not now at Oakhurst, but with her
grandmother, at Houghton Castle. It is there you will find her."

"Houghton Castle! Why, that's the place I saw mentioned in the Court
Journal. There is to be tremendous doings at Houghton Castle before
long; a grand entertainment, to which all the grandees, far and near,
are invited. What if this fifty thousand dollars should get me and Mrs.
S. an invite? That would be a crusher."

"It is possible," said Closs, controlling the fierce beating of his
heart. "Come to my hotel in the morning, early. I am anxious to get this
trust off my mind."

Stacy promised, and the two men parted, the one elated, the other
doubtful, harassed, and painfully disappointed; but the very next day
after Matthew Stacy left London for Houghton, Hepworth Closs received a
letter, which put all ideas of a voyage to America out of his mind.

CHAPTER XXIX.

OLYMPIA'S DEFEAT.

Olympia stood, panic-stricken, in her fantastic little boudoir, when she
reached home and found a note from Caroline, bidding her farewell, and
stating that, not being able to comply with her wishes, she had accepted
the other alternative, and left her house forever, in company with her
father and the old servant, who had been so faithful to her. The note
breathed of sadness and sorrow at the manner of her leaving, and, if
firm, w