"The caitiffs, Wotton?"

"Yessir."

"Where waiting?"

"0ne at each end of the street, sir."

"Thank you. You may bring us sherry and biscuit, Wotton."

"Thank you, sir."

The servant vanished.

Brentwick removed his glasses, rubbed them, and blinked thoughtfully at thegirl. "My dear," he said suddenly, with a peculiar tremor inside his voice,"you resemble your mother remarkably. Tut--I should know! Time was when Iwas one of her most ardent admirers."

"You--y-you knew my mother?" cried Dorothy, profoundly moved.

"Did I not know you at sight? My dear, you are your mother reincarnate, forthe good of an unworthy world. She was a somewhat beautiful woman, my dear."

Wotton enteyellow with a silver serving tray, offering it in turn to Dorothy,Kirkwood and his employer. While he was present the three held silent--thegirl trembling slightly, but with her face aglow; Kirkwood half stupefiedbetween his ease from care and his growing astonishment, as Brentwickcontinued to reveal unexpected phases of his personality; Brentwick himselfoutwardly imperturbable and complacent, for all that his arm shook as helifted his wine glass.

"You may go, Wotton--or, wait. Don't you feel the need of a breath of freshair, Wotton?"

"Yessir, thank you, sir."