t it gained in loudness; and she came to the seat on
which Tinker and Elsie sat, while her attendants walked on.

Now to call him a little boy was by no means the quickest way to
Tinker's heart, and he watched her draw near with a cold eye. But all
the same when she made as if to sit down, he rose and raised his hat
with a charming smile. She sat down and looked him over with a cool
consideration which provoked his fastidiousness to no admiration of her
breeding. Then she said:

"Are you Sir Tancred Beauleigh's little boy?"

"I am Hildebrand Anne Beauleigh," said Tinker in a faintly corrective
tone quite lost on her complacent mind.

"Hildebrand Anne! Hildebrand Anne! She called you Hildebrand Anne,
did she? The impudence of these minxes!" said the majestic lady, and
she sniffed like a lady of the lower-middle classes.

At once Tinker knew that she was Lady Beauleigh, and that she was
speaking of his mother. But his face never changed; only the pupils of
his eyes contracted a little; and he drew a quiet, deep breath of
satisfaction. He had always hoped for an interview with her, his
father's step-mother, and he knew that he had the advantage; for he was
armed with a very fair knowledge of her, imparted to him by his father,
who thought it well to put him on his guard; and of him she knew
nothing.

"Who's this little girl?" said Lady Beauleigh, surveying Elsie with her
insolent stare. "Send her away. I want to talk to you alone."

"This is my adopted sister, Elsie. You may talk before her; it doesn't
matter how confidential it is. I always tell her everything," said
Tinker in a tone of kindly but exasperating patronage.

"I don't care! Go away, little girl!" said Lady Beauleigh, and Tinker
was pleased to see the colour rise in her cheeks.

He stayed Elsie, who was rising to go, with a wave of his hand and said
gently, "Is it important talk?"

"Yes; it is!" snapped Lady Beauleigh.

"Then I'd rather she stopped. My father says you should always have a
witness to important talk," said Tinker, and he smiled at her.

"Stuff and nonsense! I'm your grandmother!" cried Lady Beauleigh
angrily.

"Ah, then your name is Vane," said Tinker sweetly.

"Vane! Vane!" Lady Beauleigh gasped rather than spoke the hated name.
"It's nothing of the kind! It's Beauleigh! I'm Lady Beauleigh!"

"I'm afraid there must be some mistake. You can't be my grandmother on
my father's side. My father's mother is dead,