  Mrs. Harvey Middleton sat in her boudoir, trying to read a novel. But it failed to interest her. She felt uneasy, she scarcely knew why. The evening previous she had been at the Haymarket Theatre, and had been struck by a boy's face. Ten feet from her sat Tony, with his friend, George Spencer. He looked wonderfully like his father, as she remembered him, and she was startled. She did not know Tony, but Rugg's angry warning struck her. "Was he right? Can this be the boy I have so much reason to dread?" she asked herself. She was thinking of this when the servant entered the room with a card. "C. Barry," she repeated, "wishes to see Mrs. Middleton on business of the greatest importance." "Ask him to come up," she said, uneasily. It was the lawyer, as the reader may have suspected. "Mrs. Middleton," he said, with a bow, "I must apologize for my intrusion." "You say your business is important," said the lady. "It is—of the first importance." "Explain yourself, I beg." "I appear before you, madame, in behalf of your late husband's cousin, Anthony Middleton, who is the heir of the estate which you hold in trust." It was out now, and Mrs. Middleton was at bay. "There is no such person," she said. "The boy you refer to is dead." "What proof have you of his decease?" "I have the sworn statement of the man who saw him die." "And this man's name?" "Is Rudolph Rugg." "I thought so. Mr. Rugg swore falsely. He is ready to contradict his former statement." "He has been tampered with!" exclaimed Mrs. Middleton, pale with passion. "That may be," said the lawyer; but he added, significantly, "Not by us." "The boy is an impostor," said Mrs. Middleton, hotly. "I will not surrender the estate." "I feel for your disappointment, madame; but I think you are hasty." "Who will believe the statement of a common tramp?" "You relied upon it before, madame. But we have other evidence," continued the lawyer. "What other evidence?" "The striking resemblance of my young friend to the family." "Was—was he at the Haymarket Theatre last evening?" "He was. Did you see him?" "I saw the boy I suppose you mean. He had a slight look like Mr. Middleton." "He is his image." "Suppose—suppose this story to be true, what do you offer me?" asked Mrs. Middleton, sullenly. "An income of three hundred pounds from the estate," said the lawyer. "If the matter comes to court, this Rugg, I am bound to tell you, has an ugly story to tell, in which you are implicated." Mrs. Middleton knew well enough what it meant. If the conspiracy should be disclosed, she would be ostracised socially. She rapidly made up her mind. "Mr. Barry," she said, "I will accept your terms, on a single condition." "Name it, madame." "That you will give me six weeks' undisturbed possession of the estate, keeping this matter secret meanwhile." "If I knew your motive, I might consent." "I will tell you in confidence. Within that time I am to be married. The abrupt disclosure of this matter might break off the marriage." "May I ask the name of the bridegroom?" "Captain Gregory Lovell." The lawyer smiled. He knew of Captain Lovell, and owed him a grudge. He suspected that the captain was mercenary in his wooing, and he thought that it would be a fitting revenge to let matters go on. "I consent, upon my own responsibility," he said. "Thank you," said Mrs. Middleton, with real gratitude. She would not lose the man she loved, after all. * * * * * * * A month later the marriage of Captain Gregory Lovell, of Her Majesty's service, and Mrs. Harvey Middleton, of Middleton Hall, was celebrated. There was a long paragraph in the Morning "Post," and Mrs. Lovell was happy. When, a week later, at Paris, the gallant captain was informed of the trick that had been played upon him, there was a terrible scene. He cursed his wife, and threatened to leave her. "But, Gregory, I have three hundred pounds income," she pleaded. "We can live abroad." "And I have sold myself for that paltry sum!" he said, bitterly. But he concluded to make the best of a bad bargain. Between them they had an income of five hundred pounds, and on this they made shift abroad, where living is cheap. But the marriage was not happy. He was brutal at times, and his wife realized sadly that he had never loved her. But she has all the happiness she deserves, and so has he. Rudolph drank himself to death in six months. So the income which he was to receive made but a slight draft upon the Middleton estate. And Tony!—no longer Tony the Tramp, but the Hon. Anthony Middleton, of Middleton Hall—he has just completed a course at Oxford, and is now the |
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