d, by the by, to a son of your old friend Jessop, of
Ouzelford; and between you and me, Mr. Darrell, that is the reason why
I consented to come to town. Do not suppose that I would have a
daughter finished unless there was a husband at hand who undertook to be
responsible for the results."

"You retain your wisdom, Mr. Hartopp; and I feel sure that not even your
fair partner could have brought you up to London unless you had decided
on the expediency of coming. Do you remember that I told you the day you
so admirably settled a dispute in our committee-room, 'it was well you
were not born a king, for you would have been an irresistible tyrant'?"

"Hush! hush!" whispered Hartopp, in great alarm, "if Mrs. H. should
hear you! What an observer you are, sir. I thought I was a judge of
character--but I was once deceived. I dare say you never were."

"You mistake," answered Darrell, wincing, "you deceived! How?"

"Oh, a long story, sir. It was an elderly man--the most agreeable,
interesting companion--a vagabond nevertheless--and such a pretty
bewitching little girl with him, his grandchild. I thought he might have
been a wild harumscarum chap in his day, but that he had a true sense of
honour"--(Darrell, wholly uninterested in this narrative, suppressed a
yawn, and wondered when it would end).

"Only think, sir, just as I was saying to myself, 'I know character--I
never was taken in,' down comes a smart fellow--the man's own son--and
tells me--or rather he suffers a lady who comes with him to tell
me--that this charming old gentleman of high sense of honour was a
returned convict--been transported for robbing his employer."

Pale, breathless, Darrell listened, not unheeding now. "What was the
name of--of--"

"The convict? He called himself Chapman, but the son's name was
Losely--Jasper."

"Ah!" faltered Darrell, recoiling. "And you spoke of a little girl?"

"Jasper Losely's daughter; he came after her with a magistrate's
warrant. The old miscreant had carried her off,--to teach her his own
swindling ways, I suppose."

"Luckily she was then in my charge. I gave her back to her father, and
the very respectable-looking lady he brought with him. Some relation, I
presume."

"What was her name, do you remember?"

"Crane."

"Crane!--Crane!" muttered Darrell, as if trying in vain to tax his
memory with that name. "So he said the child was his daughter--are you
sure?"

"Oh, of course he said so, and the lady too. But