tchett wheezed so grievously that what he said was not audible.

George immediately wrote to Miss Baker, announcing his return,
and expressing his wish to see his uncle. He did not mention Lady
Harcourt's name; but he suggested that perhaps it would be better,
under existing circumstances, that he should not remain at Hadley. He
hoped, however, that his uncle would not refuse to see him, and that
his coming to the house for an hour or so might not be felt to be an
inconvenience. By return of post he got an answer from Miss Baker,
in which she assured him that his uncle was most anxious for his
presence, and had appeared to be more cheerful, since he had heard of
his nephew's return, than he had been for the last two months. As for
staying at Hadley, George could do as he liked, Miss Baker said. But
it was but a sad household, and perhaps it would be more comfortable
for him to go backwards and forwards by the railway.

This correspondence caused a delay of two days, and on one of them
Bertram received a visit which he certainly did not expect. He was
sitting in his chamber alone, and was sad enough, thinking now of
Mrs. Cox and his near escape, then of Adela and his cousin's possible
happiness, and then of Caroline and the shipwreck of her hopes, when
the door opened, and Sir Henry Harcourt was standing before him.

"How d'ye do, Bertram?" said the late solicitor-general, putting out
his hand. The attitude and the words were those of friendship, but
his countenance was anything but friendly. A great change had come
over him. His look of youth had deserted him, and he might have been
taken for a care-worn, middle-aged man. He was thin, and haggard,
and wan; and there was a stern, harsh frown upon his brow, as though
he would wish to fight if he only dared. This was the successful
man--fortune's pet, who had married the heiress of the millionaire,
and risen to the top of his profession with unexampled rapidity.

"How are you, Harcourt?" said Bertram, taking the proffered hand. "I
had no idea that you had heard of my return."

"Oh, yes; I heard of it. I supposed you'd be back quick enough when
you knew that the old man was dying."

"I am glad, at any rate, to be here in time to see him," said George,
disdaining to defend himself against the innuendo.

"When are you going down?"

"To-morrow, I suppose. But I expect to have a line from Miss Baker in
the morning."

Sir Henry, who had not sat down, began walking up a